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BI  E  la  O  Z  B, 


REV.  EDWARD  PAYSON,  D.  D. 


LATE  OF   PORTLAND,  MAINE. 


BY   REV.    ASA   CUMMINGS, 


Bene  orasse  est  bene  studuisse Luther. 


PUBLISHED   BY    THE 

AMERICAN  TRACT  SOCIETY, 

130  NASSAU-STREET,   NEW-YORK. 


D.  Fanshaw,  Printer. 


In  this  edition,  whatever  was  judged  to  be  of  mere  local 
interest,  and  a  portion  of  the  comments  which  had  been 
largely  interspersed,  are  omitted,  under  the  sanction  of  the 
author.  The  exhibition  of  Dr.  Payson's  life  and  character, 
especially  as  shown  in  his  own  journal  and  correspondence, 
is  full ;  and  every  thing  retained  which  was  supposed  to  be 
of  general  interest  to  the  intelligent  and  pious  reader. 


DISTRICT  OF  3IAINE,  TO  WIT  : 

District  Clerk's  Ojgice. 
Be  it  remembered,  That  on  the  twenty-fifth  day  of  February,  A.  D. 
1830,  and  in  the  fifty-fourth  year  of  the  Independence  of  the  United  States 
of  America,  Mr?.  Ann  L.  Payson,  of  said  district,  has  deposited  iu  this 
office  the  title  of  a  book,  the  right  whereof  she  claims  as  proprietor,  in  tlie 
words  following,  to  wit : 

"A  Memoir  of  the  Rev.  Edward  Paj'son,  D.  D.  late  Pastor  of  the  Se- 
cond Church  in  Portland.    Bene  orasse  est  bene  ftuduisse. — Luther." 

In  conformity  to  the  act  of  tlie  Congress  of  the  United  States,  entitled, 
"  An  Act  for  the  encouragement  of  learning,  by  securing  the  copies  of 
maps,  charts  and  books,  to  the  authors  and  prorietors  of  sucii  coj)ies  dur- 
ing the  times  therein  mentioned  ;"  and  also  to  an  act,  entitled,  "  An  Act 
supplementary  to  an  act,  entitled, '  An  Act  for  the  encouragement  of  learn- 
ing, by  securing  the  copies  of  maps,  charts  and  books  to  the  authors  and 
•proprietors  of  such  copies  during  the  times  therein  mentioned  ;'  and  for 
extending  the  benefits  thereof  to  the  arts  of  designing,  engraving,  and 
etching  historical  and  other  prints." 

J.  MUSSEY, 

Clerk  of  the  District  of  Maine. 
A  true  copy  as  of  record, 

Attest,        J.  MUSSEY,  Clerk  D.  C.  Maine. 


CONTENTS. 

.  „      .-  .-.    ■     ■■    '■"    -    ,^  :..  Page. 

Chap,  i.  Birth  of  Edward  f*aysbii^— His  early,  impres- 
sions ;  intellectual  qualities  ;  filial  and  fraternal 
conduct ;  moral  character — His  literary  education  ; 
enters  Harvard  College  ;  his  reputation  there  5 

Chap.  ii.  Comprising  a  period  of  three  years  from  the 
time  of  his  leaving  college  14 

Chap.  m.  His  religious  history  during  the  period  em- 
braced in  the  preceding  chapter  29 

Chap.  iv.  Retires  to  Rindge,  and  devotes  himself  ex- 
clusively to  his  preparation  for  the  ministry  6G 

Chap.  v.  His  state  of  mind  in  the  immediate  prospect 
of  the  ministry  93 

Chap.  vi.  His  first  efforts  as  a  preacher — His  religious 
character  further  developed  108 

Chap.  vii.  Visits  Portland — His  favorable  reception, 
and  Ordination  '  125 

Chap.  vm.  His  concern  for  his  flock — Reverse  in  his 
temporal  prospects — Is  taken  from  his  work  by 
sickness  140 

Chap.  ix.  Resumes  his  pastoral  labors— Letters— Re- 
view of  the  year  156 

Chap.  x.  His  dependence  on  God ;  its  influence  on 
himself  and  church — His  uniform  purpose  to  know 
nothing  save  Jesus  Christ  and  Him  crucified — Illus- 
tration— Letters — Resolutions — Increased  success    176 

Chap.  xi.  Permanency  and  strength  of  maternal  influ- 
ence—Correspondence— Death-bed  anguish,  how 
alleviated — Disgraceful  incident — Price  of  popula- 
rity— Reasons  of  former  trials  developed — Let- 
ters, &c.  198 

Chap.  xn.  Holy  aspirations — Gratitude  to  the  Savior 
— Multiplied  labors — Novel  family  scene — Danger 


4  CONTENTS. 

Page 
averted—"  Curious  frame  "—Flattery  deprecated 
— His  marriage — Becomes  sole  pastor  of  the  church 
— Retrospect  of  the  year  216 

CfiAP.  xiri.  Forms  of  prayer — Thoughts  on  public 
prayer — His  sincerity  a  grand  means  of  his  suc- 
cess 240 

Chap,  xiv.  The  pastor  in  action— Methods  of  excit- 
ing, sustaining  and  extending  a  due  interest  in  re- 
ligious concerns — Preaching,  administration  of  or- 
dinances, church  fast,  conference,  inquiry  meetings  ■  254 

Chap.  xv.  The  same  subject — Bible  class — Pastoral 
visits — Social  parties — Special  and  casual  inter- 
views— Charm  of  his  conversation — Singular  ren- 
counter— Whence  his  competency — His  publica- 
tions 2i^5 

Chap,  xvi.  His  exertions  without  the  bounds  of  hispa- 
rish — Influence  on  his  ministerial  associates ;  in  re- 
suscitating and  edifying  other  churches — Visits 
"  The  Springs  " — Effect  of  his  example,  conversa- 
tion, and  prayers  on  other  visiters — Excursions  in 
behalf  of  charitable  societies — Translation  of  mi- 
nisters— He  is  invited  to  Boston  and  New-York       317 

Chap.  xvii.  Letters  to  persons  in  various  circumstan- 
ces and  states  of  mind  339 

Chap.  xvm.  His  private  character — His  affections  and 
demeanor  as  a  husband,  father,  master,  friend — His 
gratitude,  economy,  generosity — His  temper  of 
mind  imder  injuries  377 

Chap.  xix.  Further  particulars  relating  to  his  person- 
al history,  and  religious  exercises,  in  connection 
with  his  pastoral  labors  and  their  results  398 

Chap.  xx.  His  last  labors — His  spiritual  joys,  heaven- 
ly counsels,  and  brightening  intellect,  during  the 
progress  of  his  disease — His  triumphant  death        448 

Lines  by  Mrs.  Sigourney  485 


MEMOIR.  OjS^i; 


:^ 


CHAPTER  I. 

Birth  of  Edwa/rA  Pay  son — His  early  impressions ;  intellectual 
qualities ;  filial  and,  firaternal  conduct ;  moral  character — 
His  literary  education :  enters  Harvard  College ;  his  reputa- 
tion there. 

Edward  Payson  was  bom  at  Rindge,  New-Hamp- 
shire, July  25th,  1783.  His  father  was  the  Rev.  Seth 
Payson,  D.  D.  pastor  of  the  church  in  Rindge,  a  man 
of  piety  and  public  spirit,  distinguished  as  a  clergyman, 
and  favorably  known  as  an  author.  His  mother.  Grata 
Payson,  was  a  distant  relative  of  her  husband,  their 
lineage,  after  being  traced  back  a  few  generations, 
meeting  in  the  same  stock.  To  the  Christian  fidelity 
of  these  parents  there  is  the  fullest  testimony  in  the 
subsequent  and  repeated  acknowledgments  of  their  son, 
who  habitually  attributed  his  religious  hopes,  as  well 
as  his  usefulness  in  life,  under  God,  to  their  instruc- 
tions, example,  and  prayers — especially  those  of  his 
mother.  She  appears  to  have  admitted  him  to  the  most 
intimate,  unreserved,  and  confiding  intercourse,  which 
was  yet  so  wisely  conducted  as  to  strengthen  rather 
than  diminish  his  filial  reverence  j  to  have  cherished  a 

M.  p.  1* 


6  MEMOIR    OF 

remarkable  inquisitiveness  of  mind,  which  early  dis- 
covered itself  in  him;  and  to  have  patiently  heard  and 
replied  to  the  almost  endless  inquiries  which  his  early 
thirst  for  knowledge  led  him  to  propose.  His  father 
was  not  less  really  and  sincerely  interested  for  the 
welfare  of  his  son  ;  but,  from  the  nature  of  the  relation, 
and  the  calls  of  official  duty,  his  opportunities  must 
have  been  less  frequent,  and  his  instructions  have  par- 
taken of  a  more  formal  character.  With  the  mother, 
however,  opportunities  were  always  occurring,  and 
she  seems  to  have  been  blessed  with  the  faculty  and 
disposition  to  turn  them  to  the  best  advantage.  Ed- 
ward's recollections  of  her  extended  back  to  very  early 
childhood ;  and  he  has  been  heard  to  say,  that  though 
she  was  very  solicitous  that  he  might  be  liberally  edu- 
cated, and  receive  every  accomplishment  which  would 
increase  his  respectability  and  influence  in  the  world, 
yet  he  could  distinctly  see  that  the  supreme,  the  all- 
absorbing  concern  of  her  soul  respecting  him,  was,  that 
he  might  become  a  child  of  God.  This  manifested  it- 
self in  her  discipline,  her  counsels,  expostulations,  and 
prayers,  which  were  followed  up  with  a  perseverance 
that  nothing  could  check.  And  they  were  not  in  vain. 
From  the  first  developement  of  his  moral  powers,  his 
mind  was  more  or  less  affected  by  his  condition  and 
prospects  as  a  sinner.  It  is  among  the  accredited  tra- 
ditions of  his  family,  that  he  was  often  known  to  weep 
under  the  preaching  of  the  Gospel,  when  only  three 
years  old.  About  this  period,  too,  he  would  frequently 
call  his  mother  to  his  bed-side  to  converse  on  religion, 
and  to  answer  numerous  questions  respecting  his  re- 
lations to  God  and  the  future  world.  How  long  this 
seriousness  continued,  or  to  what  interruptions  it  was 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  7 

subjected,  does  not  clearly  appear ;  nor  is  much  known 
as  to  the  peculiar  character  of  his  exercises  at  that 
time ;  but  that  they  were  not  mere  transient  impres- 
sions seems  highly  probable  from  the  fact,  that,  in  sub- 
sequent years,  his  mother  was  inclined  to  the  belief 
that  he  was  converted  in  childhood.  There  was  some 
other  cause  than  maternal  partiality  for  this  opinion, 
as  she  did  not  cherish  it  alone.  Besides,  his  intimate 
friends  have  reason  for  believing  that  he  never  ne- 
glected secret  prayer  while  a  resident  in  his  father's 
family.  The  evidences  of  his  piety,  however,  were,  at 
this  period,  far  from  being  conclusive ;  he,  at  least, 
does  not  appear  to  have  regarded  them  as  such ;  nei- 
ther were  they  so  regarded  by  his  father,  who  had 
earnestly  desired  to  see  him  a  decided  follower  of  the 
Redeemer,  before  encountering  the  dangers  to  reli- 
gious principle  and  pure  morals,  which  are  sometimes 
found  within  the  walls  of  a  college. 

How  far  those  mental  qualities,  which  distinguished 
Dr.  Payson's  maturity,  were  apparent  in  his  early  days, 
cannot  now  be  known ;  for,  though  he  died  compara- 
tively young,  his  parents  had  gone  before  him,  and 
their  surviving  children  were  all  younger  than  this 
son.  The  very  few  incidents  belonging  to  this  period 
of  his  history,  which  have  escaped  oblivion,  though 
not  adequate  to  satisfy  curiosity,  are,  on  the  whole, 
characteristic,  and  afford  undoubted  indications  that 
this  well-known  decision,  enterprise,  and  perseverance 
had  dawned  even  in  childhood. 

That  he  was  a  minute  observer  of  nature,  and  highly 
susceptible  of  emotions  from  the  grand  and  beautiful 
in  the  handy-works  of  God,  was  obvious  to  all  who 
had  the  privilege  of  listening  to  his  conversation  or  his 


8  MEMOIR   OF 

preaching.  His  taste  for  the  sublime  very  early  dis.- 
covered  itself.  During  a  tempest,  he  might  be  seen  ex- 
posed on  the  top  of  the  fence,  or  some  other  eminence, 
while  the  lightnings  played  and  the  thunders  rolled 
around  him,  sitting  in  delightful  composure,  and  en- 
joying the  sublimity  of  the  scene. 

He  is  said  to  have  manifested  an  early  predilection 
for  arithmetic ;  and  was  a  tolerable  proficient  in  the 
art  of  reading  at  the  age  of  four  years — an  art  which 
no  man  ever  employed  to  better  advantage.  The  sur- 
prising quickness  with  which  he  would  transfer  to  his 
own  mind  the  contents  of  a  book,  at  a  time  when  a  new 
book  was  a  greater  rarity  than  it  now  is,  threatened 
to  exhaust  his  sources  of  information  through  this  me- 
dium. All  the  books  in  his  father's  collection,  and  the 
town  library,  which  were  of  a  character  suited  to  his 
age  and  attainments,  were  read  before  he  left  the  pa- 
ternal home,  and  retained  with  such  tenacity  of  me- 
mory, as  to  be  ever  after  available  for  illustrating 
truths,  or  enlivening  and  embellishing  discourse. 

It  is  natural  to  inquire  whether  there  was  any  thing 
in  the  circumstances  of  his  early  youth  which  will  ac- 
count for  his  mental  habits,  and  especially  the  rapidity 
of  his  intellectual  operations.  A  partial  answer  may 
be  found  in  the  fact,  that  his  time  was  divided  between 
labor  and  study.  His  father,  like  most  ministers  of 
country  congregations,  derived  the  means  of  support- 
ing his  family,  in  part,  from  a  farm,  which  his  sons 
assisted  in  cultivating.  From  his  share  in  these  agri- 
cultural labors  the  subject  of  this  Memoir  was  not  ex- 
empted. But,  whatever  were  his  employment,  though 
he  appears  to  have  engaged  in  it  with  cheerfulness, 
and  to  have  prosecuted  it  with  fidelity,  his  thirst  for 


EDWARD   PAYS  ON.  9 

knowledge  was  the  ruling  passion  of  his  soul.    This 
he  sought  to  quench,  or  rather  to  cherish,  by  resorting 
to  his  book  at  every  interval  from  toil,  however  short, 
when  he  tasked  his  mind  to  the  utmost  of  his  power, 
intent  on  making  the  greatest  possible  acquisition  in 
a  given  time.  His  mind,  though  strung  up  to  the  high- 
est pitch  of  exertion  at  these  seasons,  suffered  no  in- 
jury thereby,  as  it  was  soon  diverted  from  its  employ- 
ment by  a  call  to  the  field ;  and  every  repetition  of  the 
process  extended  its  capability  and  power.    The  ac- 
quisitions, in  this  way  obtained,  furnished  materials 
on  which  to  employ  his  thoughts  while  engaged  in 
manual  labor,  which  he  would  not  fail  to  digest  and 
lay  up  in  store  for  future  use, — a  voluntary  discipline 
of  most  auspicious  influence,  as  it  respects  the  facility 
of  acquiring  knowledge,  and  the  power  of  retaining  it. 
His  early  literary,  as  well  as  moral  and  religious 
education,  is  believed  to  have  been  conducted  princi- 
pally by  his  parents,  except  the  studies  preparatory  to 
college,  which  were  pursued,  in  part  at  least,  at  a 
neighboring  academy.     His  preparatory  course  was 
completed  before  the  long  and  fondly-cherished  de- 
sires of  his  father  respecting  his  personal  piety  were 
realized.    Still  the  good  man  could  hardly  cherish  the 
thought  of  conferring  on  his  son  the  advantages  of  a 
public  education,  without  an  assurance  grounded  on 
evidences  of  experimental  religion,  that  he  would  em- 
ploy his  attainments  for  the  best  good  of  his  fellow- 
men,  and  the  glory  of  his  Maker.    With  reference  to 
this  essential  requisite,  he  used  much  earnest  expostu- 
lation, and  even  went  so  far  as  to  say  to  him,  "  To 
give  you  a  liberal  education,  while  destitute  of  reli- 
gion, would  be  like  putting  a  sword  into  the  hands  of 
a  madman." 


10  MEMOIR   OF 

Whetner  the  father  was  led  to  adopt  such  strong 
language,  from  having  observed  in  his  son  the  exist- 
ence of  those  properties  which,  in  their  future  devel- 
opement,  were  to  give  him  j.uch  power  over  his  spe- 
cies, or  whether  it  proceeded  merely  from  anxiety  to 
transfer  his  own  feelings  and  convictions  to  the  mind  of 
his  son, — there  does  not  appear  to  have  been,  in  either 
the  disposition  or  conduct  of  the  latter,  any  particular 
cause  for  unusual  apprehensions  respecting  him.  His 
filial  affection  and  conduct  had  been,  and  ever  con- 
tinued to  be,  most  exemplary,  as  manifested  by  his 
letters  when  absent,  and  by  his  reverence  for  his  pa- 
rents and  cheerful  obedience  when  at  home.  His  fra- 
ternal feelings  were  kind,  and  his  conduct  toAvards  his 
brothers  and  sisters  faithful  and  aflectionate.  By  them 
ne  was  greatly  beloved,  and  his  vacations,  when  he 
should  visit  home,  and  mingle  again  in  the  domestic 
circle,  were  anticipated  with  delightful  interest,  as  the 
halcyon  days  of  their  lives.  His  moral  character  comes 
down  to  us,  even  from  the  first,  without  a  blemish; 
and,  by  consent  of  all,  he  sustained  the  reputation  of  a 
magnanimous,  honorable,  generous  youth. 

His  father,  as  is  obvious  from  the  event,  had  formed 
no  peremptory  and  unalterable  purpose  to  wait  for  the 
certain  fruits  of  personal  religion  before  sending  him 
to  college  ;  and  the  real  cause  of  hesitancy  was,  proba- 
bly, the  tender  age  and  inexperience  of  his  son.  The 
interval  of  his  detention  was  a  favorable  season  for  the 
application  of  religious  motives.  As  such  it  was  im- 
proved by  this  solicitous  parent,  and  not  in  vain ;  for 
his  faithful  suggestions  and  appeals  were  afterwards 
recalled  by  the  object  of  his  solicitude,  with  most  grate- 
ful and  impressive  interest.  Young  Payson  though  de- 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  11 

tained  from  college,  was  permitted  to  pursue  his  stu- 
dies— but  whether  exclusively,  or  in  connection  with 
other  employments,  does  not  appear, — till  he  was  fitted 
to  join  the  Sophomore  class;  when,  all  objections  be- 
ing waived,  he  entered  Harvard  College,  at  an  advanced 
standing,  in  1800,  about  the  time  he  completed  his  se- 
venteenth year. 

He  had  now  a  new  ordeal  to  pass — a  severe  test  for 
both  his  talents  and  character.  Many  a  youth,  who 
was  regarded  as  a  prodigy  of  genius  in  the  place  of 
his  nativity,  and  who  anticipated  the  same  eminence 
at  the  seat  of  science,  has  found  himself  sadly  disap- 
pointed, in  being  obliged  to  take  his  rank  below  medi- 
ocrity. Thus  it  had  nearly  fared  with  Payson — not 
that  he  was  destitute  of  real  Avorth ;  but  there  were 
circumstances  which  prevented  that  Avorth  from  being 
appreciated.  The  first  impressions  respecting  him 
were  unfavorable.  "  You  would  have  taken  him,  says 
a  classmate,  for  an  unpolished,  ignorant  country  lad ; 
exceedingly  modest,  unassuming,  and  reserved  in  his 
manners.  And,  as  we  generally  look  for  a  long  time 
at  the  words  and  actions  of  a  character  through  the 
same  medium  by  which  he  was  first  presented  to  us, 
his  merit  was  for  a  long  time  unknown."  This  judg- 
ing from  appearances  is,  perhaps,  unavoidable,  though 
often  very  injurious.  In  his  youth,  Mr.  Payson's  mo- 
desty might  easily  be  mistaken  for  bashfulness  ;  as 
through  life  he  had  much  of  a  downcast  look,  holding 
his  eyes  inclined  to  the  earth,  except  when  Avarmly  en- 
gaged in  conversation ;  then  they  would  beam  most  ex- 
pressively ;  and  when  addressing  an  audience  from  the 
pulpit,  they  would  "  pry  through  the  portals  of  the  head," 
'V'fl  jrive  a  thrilling  emphasis  to  the  lanaruao-e  of  his  lins. 


12  MEMOIR  or 

Mr.  Payson's  classmate,  just  quoted,  and  who  also 
occupied  the  same  rooms  with  him  during  the  whole 
period  of  his  residence  at  college,  bears  decided  testi- 
mony to  the  purity  of  his  morals  and  the  regularity  of 
his  habits,  as  well  as  other  estimable  qualities.  With 
his  intimate  friends  he  was  social,  communicative,  and 
peculiarly  interesting  and  improving,  and,  by  those  who 
best  knew  him,  was  much  beloved.  He  was  distin- 
guished for  his  industry ;  his  first  care  always  was  to 
be  master  of  the  studies  of  his  class,  which  engaged 
him  but  a  short  time,  and  then  he  would  resume  his 
reading.  He  was  invariably  prepared  to  meet  his  in- 
structor, prompt  in  reciting,  and  seldom  committed  a 
mistake.  His  manner  of  rehearsing  was  rapid,  his  tone 
of  voice  low,  with  a  kind  of  instinctive  shrinking  from 
every  thing  which  had  the  appearance  of  display.  He 
seems  to  have  been  regarded  as  no  more  than  a  decent 
scholar  by  his  associates  and  teachers  generally  at  col- 
lege ;  but,  "  after  having  been  with  him  a  few  months, 
I  was  convinced  that  he  possessed  uncommon  mental 
powers.  Others  knew  not  this,  because  they  knew  not 
the  man.  During  the  latter  part  of  his  collegiate 
course,  as  he  became  more  knoAvn,  he  rose  rapidly  in 
the  estimation  of  both  the  government  and  his  class- 
mates, as  a  young  man  of  correct  morals,  amiable  dis- 
position, and  respectable^  talents." 

The  testimony  of  another  classmate  agrees  with  this 
as  to  the  general  character  of  the  man,  but  is  more  dis- 
criminating and  positive  in  reference  to  his  merits  as 
a  scholar.  "  The  circumstance  of  joining  his  class  at 
an  advanced  standing,  combined  with  his  naturally  re- 
tiring and  unobtrusive  manners,  contributed,  probably, 
to  his  being  so  little  known  to  a  large  portion  of  his 


EDWARD   PAYSON.  13 

college  contemporaries,  who  seemed  scarcely  aware 
that  his  talents  were  of  lliat  high  order,  by  which  he 
was  soon  afterwards,  so  eminently  distinguished.  Yet^ 
even  at  that  early  period,  he  manifested  an  energy, 
hardihood,  and  perseverance  of  character,  which  were 
sure  indications  of  success,  in  whatever  course  he 
might  eventually  direct  his  professional  pursuits.  In 
the  regular  course  of  college  studies,  pur3\ied  at  the 
time  of  his  residence  at  Cambridge,  he  maintained  the 
reputation  of  a  respectable  scholar  in  every  branch. 
Intellectual  and  moral  philosophy  were  more  to  his 
taste  than  physical  science ;  yet  he  sustained  a  distin- 
guished rank  in  the  higher  branches  of  the  mathema- 
tics, as  well  as  natural  philosophy  and  astronomy,  at 
that  time  so  unpopular,  and  so  little  understood  by  a 
large  proportion  of  the  students."  It  is  not  remem- 
bered, however,  that  there  was  any  public  recognition 
of  distinguished  merit  in  him  at  the  time  he  com- 
menced Bachelor  of  Arts. 

The  reputation  of  being  "a  great  reader,"  as  the 
phrase  is  often  applied,  is  a  very  undesirable  distinc- 
tion ;  it  is  one,  however,  which  Mr.  Payson  bore  in 
common  with  thousands  who  are  not  the  wiser  for 
their  reading.  His  frequent  resort  to  the  college  li- 
brary was  a  theme  of  raillery  with  his  fellow-students, 
who,  at  one  time,  represented  him  as  having  'a  ma- 
chine to  turn  over  the  leaves  ;'  and  at  another,  as  'hav- 
ing left  oft'  taking  out  books,  because  he  had  read  all 
the  thousands  in  the  alcoves  of  old  Harvard.'  Ridi- 
cule, in  his  case,  was  egregiously  misapplied ;  for,  says 
hii  constant  companion  in  the  study  and  in  the  dormi- 
tory, "  every  thing  he  read,  he  made  his  own.  He  had 
the  strongest  and  most  tenacious  memory  I  ever  knew» 

M.  p.  .2 


14  MEMOIR  OF 

It  is  truly  astonishing  with  what  rapidit)^  he  could  read  ; 
now  soon  he  could  devour  a  large  volume,  and  yet 
give  the  most  particular  and  accurate  account  of  its 
contents."  Testimonies  of  the  same  kind  might  be 
multiplied,  and  confirmed  by  many  anecdotes,  which 
to  a  stranger  Avould  appear  incredible,  illustrating  the 
power  of  this  faculty,  and  the  severity  of  those  tests 
to  which  it'was  subjected. 


CHAPTER  IL 


Comprising  a  period  of  three  years  from  the  iinie  of  his  leaV' 
ing  college. 

Mr.  Payson  was  graduated  at  Harvard  University, 
at  the  commencement  in  1803.  Soon  after  leaving  col- 
lege, he  was,  on  recommendation,  particularly  of  Pro- 
fessors Tappan  and  Pearson,  engaged  to  take  charge 
of  the  academy  then  recently  established  in  Portland. 
He  continued  in  this  office  for  three  years,  at  the  close 
of  which  he  was,  by  the  terms  of  his  contract,  at  liber- 
ty to  resign  it.  Of  this  liberty  his  new  views  of  duty, 
at  the  time,  disposed  him  to  avail  himself. 

An  employment,  Avhich  requires  the  daily  repetition 
of  nearly  the  same  routine  of  duties,  cannot  be  very 
prolific  in  incident,  or  very  favorable  to  the  develope- 
ment  of  those  qualities  which  attract  the  public  eye. 
Nor  is  it  an  employment  in  which  real  worth  is  likely 
to  be  appreciated,  except  by  a  very  few ;  though  the 
igubject  of  this  memoir  is  not  thought  to  have  had  any 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  15 

special  cause  of  complaint,  as  to  the  estimation  in 
which  his  services  were  held.  He  acquired  and  sus- 
tained a  good  reputation  as  an  instructer ;  but,  from  a 
man  possessing  his  characteristics,  something  more 
would  naturally  be  expected.  He  was  certainly  endu- 
ed with  a  rare  faculty  for  communicating  knowledge, 
and  with  a  power  to  awaken,  and  call  into  action,  the 
mental  energies  of  either  youth  or  manhood.  In  the 
existing  methods  of  education,  hoAvever,  there  was 
much  to  obstruct  the  exercise  of  this  power.  The  in- 
structer, who  should  do  much  more  than  follow  the 
order  and  manner  of  the  text-books  then  in  use,  would 
probably  have  been  regarded  as  an  empiric ;  besides, 
the  habits  of  society  were  then  opposed,  more  than 
they  have  been  since,  to  every  thing  which  bore  the 
appearance  of  innovation.  His  native  diffidence,  also, 
would  have  operated  as  a  powerful  restraint  against 
venturing  on  any  bold  experiments  in  a  sphere  of  ac- 
tion and  duty  in  which,  judging  from  the  character 
and  attainments  of  many  who  had  filled  it,  little  im- 
provement was  to  be  expected. 

At  this  period  he  was  but  a  youth ;  and  it  is  not  to 
be  supposed  that  he  engaged  in  the  business  of  in- 
struction, and  prosecuted  it  with  that  all-absorbing  in- 
terest and  determination  of  purpose  which  distinguish- 
ed his  ministerial  career.  It  is,  to  say  the  least,  ex- 
tremely doubtful  whether  he  had  felt  the  influence  on 
human  exertion  of  that  principle  which  is  indispen- 
sable to  man's  highest  achievements — doing  all  to  the 
glory  of  God.  As  it  was,  he  is  remembered  by  surviv- 
ing pupils  with  gratitude,  respect,  and  even  venera- 
tion. He  has  left,  as  will  be  seen,  sufficient  evidence 
of  his  deep  solicitude  for  their  moral  and  religious  wel 


16  MEMOIR    OF 

fare,  from  the  time  at  which  he  was  comfortably  as- 
sured o(  his  own  "  acceptance  in  the  Beloved." 

It  would  seem,  from  some  allusions  in  his  sermons, 
as  well  as  from  hints  derived  from  other  sources,  that, 
during  the  early  part  of  his  residence  in  Portland,  he 
indulged  himself  in  such  amusements  as  Vv'ere  fashion- 
able, or  were  considered  reputable,  and  that,  too,  with 
a  gust  as  exquisite  as  their  most  hearty  devotee — how 
frequently,  or  to  what  extent,  the  writer  is  ignorant. 
This  practice,  if  it  were  more  than  occasional,  would 
indicate  a  relish  for  social  pleasures,  in  the  usual  sense 
of  the  expression,  which  did  not  long  continue ;  for, 
after  his  seriousness  became  habitual,  he  was  averse 
to  going  into  company,  even  to  a  fault.  He  dreaded 
an  invitation  to  a  social  party,  though  he  had  reason 
to  expect  nothing  there  directly  offensive  to  religious 
feelings.  But  there  were  companions  whose  society 
be  sought,  and  whose  intercourse  was  so  regulated  as 
to  subserve  mutual  improvement.  They  were  select 
literary  friends,  some  of  them  his  classmates,  whose 
fellowship  Avas  in  a  high  degree  intimate  and  endear- 
ing. With  these  he  passed  many  pleasant  and  profit- 
able hours,  and  cemented  a  friendship  which  conti- 
nued till  death,  and  which  has  been  faithfully  recipro- 
cated by  the  surviving  members  of  the  little  band,  and 
continues  to  exhibit  itself  in  unfeigned  respect  for  his 
precious  memory.  The  exercises  of  these  meetings 
were  not  subjected  to  any  very  rigid  and  formal  regu- 
lations, such  as  would  have  cramped  the  energies  of 
the  mind,  or  restrained  even  its  wilder  sallies.  Mu- 
tual^onfidence  was  the  bond  of  union,  which  no  seve- 
rity of  retort  or  piquancy  of  raillery  could  sunder.  Each 
brought  forward  the  results  of  his  reading  or  invention, 


EDWARD   PAYSON.  17 

and  exercised  his  powers  at  discussion  or  free  conver- 
sation; and,  by  this  "action  of  mind  upon  mind,"  the 
most  brilliant  flashes  of  wit  were  often  struck  from  one 
so  full  charged,  and  so  quick  at  combination  as  Pay- 
son's,  to  the  no  small  entertainment  of  his  companions. 
Of  these  intellectual  banquets,  his  contributions  were 
the  most  coveted  and  exquisite  portion. 

But  no  distance,  employment,  or  friendships  could 
weaken  his  attachment  to  the  paternal  home,  or  di- 
minish the  strength  of  his  filial  love.  Some  extracts 
from  his  letters  will  now  be  given,  which,  while  they 
exhibit  the  son  and  the  brother  in  the  most  amiable 
light,  will  serve  also  to  illustrate  some  of  his  intellec- 
tual qualities.  They  are  addressed  to  his  "Ever Dear 
andjHonored  Parents." 

"  Portland,  May  20,  1804. 
"  It  is  not  the  least  among  the  distressing  circum- 
stances attending  the  late  afflicting  dispensation  of 
Providence,  that  I  am  unable  in  person  to  share  in  your 
grief,  and  alleviate,  by  filial  sympathy  and  affection,  the 
keenness  of  your  sorrow.  I  would  fain  attempt  to  afford 
you  some  consolation ;  but  the  only  sources  whence 
it  can  be  derived  are  already  your  own.  I  can  only 
say  for  myself— it  shall  ever  be  my  endeavor,  that,  so 
far  as  my  exertions  can  avail,  you  shall  not  feel  his 
loss ;  and  that  we,  who  remain,  will  strive  to  fill,  by 
our  increased  duty,  reverence,  and  affection,  the  pain- 
ful void  thus  made  in  your  happiness." 

"  January  14,  1805. 
"I  congratulate  you  both  on  the  welcome  news, 
which  mv  sister  gave  me,  of  your  amended  health  and 
M.  P.    '  2* 


18  MEMOin   OF 

spirits.  Mine,  I  feel,  flow  -with  double  rapidity  since  I 
received  her  letter.  I  witness,  in  fancy,  the  happiness 
of  home,  and  long  to  participate  and  increase  it ;  but 
for  the  present  must  be  content  with  rejoicing  alone. 
I  cannot  possibly  plead  guilty  to  the  charge  of  'not 
thinking  of  home,  so  often  as  home  does  of  me.'  On  the 
contrary,  I  believe  home  has  very  little  due  on  that  score, 
if  we  consider  the  frequency,  and  not  the  value,  of 
the  thoughts.  But,  my  dear  Parents,  if  a  few  of  those 
thoughts  could  be  imbodied  on  paper,  and  sent  me, 
how  much  m.ore  good  they  would  do,  and  how  much 
more  pleasure  they  would  communicate,  than  if  they 
were  to  remain  in  their  native  place ! 

"  I  am  still  without  an  assistant,  and  as  the  number 
of  students  has  been  increased,  my  task  is  very  labo- 
rious. However,  I  shall  soon  be  supplied. — Just  now 
I  was  interrupted.  It  was  my  assistant.  He  is  young 
and  raw ;  but  so  much  the  better.  He  will  not  render 
me  small  by  comparison! 

"I  had  a  pleasant  vacation.  All  my  classmates  who 
are  in  the  district,  five  in  number,  met  at  the  house  of 
one  of  them.  The  recollection  of  past  scenes  was,  as 
Ossian  says,  '  pleasant  and  mournful  to  the  soul.' 
There  is,  however,  very  little  satisfaction  in  recalling' 
past  pleasures  to  mind ;  that  is,  what  is  generally  called 
pleasure." 

"  September  8,  1805. 
"The  distress  I  felt  at  partmg  with  you  was  soon 
banished  by  the  garrulity  of  my  companion,  whose 
chattering  tongue  for  once  afforded  me  pleasure,  and, 
besides,  freed  m.e  from  the  necessity  of  talking,  for 
which  I  felt  not  very  well  qualified.    1  once  thought  it 


EDWARD   PAYSON.  1& 

was  impossible  for  my  filial  affection  to  be  increased ; 
out  the  kindness  which  first  gave  birth  to  it  increases 
every  visit  I  make,  and  that  must  increase  with  it. 
Were  others  blessed  with  friends  like  mine,  how 
much  greater  would  be  the  sum  of  virtue  and  happi- 
ness on  earth  than  we  have  reason  to  fear  it  is  at  pre- 
sent. Why  cannot  other  parents  learn  your  art  of 
mixing  the  friend  with  the  parent?  of  joining  friend- 
ship to  filial  affection,  and  of  conciliating  love,  without 
losing  respect  ? — an  art  of  more  importance  to  society, 
and  more  difficult  to  learn, — at  least,  if  we  may  judge 
by  the  rareness  w4th  which  it  is  found, — than  any 
other ;  and  an  art  which  you,  my  dear  parents,  cer- 
tainly have  in  perfection. 

"We  had  a  tolerably  pleasant  journey,  and  were  re- 
ceived with  kindness  by  Mrs. ,  and  w^ith  polite- 
ness, at  least,  by  the  rest  of  the  family.  After  the  oth- 
ers were  retired,  Col. kept  me  up  till  past  eleven, 

explaining,  as  well  as  T  could,  the  difference  between 
the  various  sects  of  religion,  especially  between  Arnii- 
nians  and  Calvinists.        *        *        *        * 

"  W^e  had  a  long  passage,  but  met  with  no  accident, 
except  tliat  I  carried  away  my  hat — to  use  a  sea- 
phrase — that  is,  the  wind  carried  it  aAvay,  and,  there 
being  no  one  on  board  that  would,  fit  me,  I  was  two 
days  on  the  w^ater  exposed  to  a  burning  sun,  without 
shelter ;  in  consequence,  my  face  was  scorched  pretty 
severely." 

^^  September  20,  \^{)o, 
"  I  sadly  suspect  that  this  plan  of  numbering  ray 
Bpistles  will  prove  your  deficiency,  and  my  attention, 
m  a  manner  very  honorable  to  myself,  and  *iol  very 


20  MEMOIR   OF 

much  so  to  my  good  friends  at  home.  This  is  my 
fourth^  and  not  one  have  I  received,  nor  do  I  expect 
one  this  long  time.  However,  I  say  not  this  by  way 
of  complaint.  Your  kindness,  when  I  was  at  home, 
proved  your  affection  beyond  a  doubt ;  and  if  I  should 
not  receive  one  letter  this  year,  I  should  have  no  right 
to  complain.  Yet,  though  not  of  right,  I  may  of  favor 
entreat  for  a  few  occasional  tokens  of  remembrance. 
I  have  as  yet  scarcely  recovered  from  the  inflation  and 
pride  your  goodness  occasioned.  The  attention  1  re- 
ceived led  me  to  suppose  myself  a  person  of  no  small 
consequence  ;  however,  a  month's  dieting  on  cold  ci- 
vility and  formal  politeness  will,  I  hope,  reduce  me  to 
my  former  size.  In  the  meantime,  I  am  convinced 
that  my  situation  here  is  not  so  much  worse  than  any 
other  as  I  imagined." 

The  following  letter  describes  a  scene  in  a  stage- 
coach. Those  who  have  witnessed  the  writer's  une- 
qualled command  of  language,  and  power  to  accumu- 
late facts  and  imagery  to  give  it  effect,  will  most  readily 
conceive  of  the  overwhelming  torrent  of  satire  which 
he  must  have  poured  forth  on  the  occasion  described. 
Travelers  have  often  brought  themselves  into  a  highly 
mortifying  dilemma  by  allowing  free  license  to  their 
tongues  among  strangers.  It  was  happy  for  the  hero 
in  this  adventure,  that  he  expended  his  forces  upon  a 
legitimate  subject  of  raillery. 

"  Portland,  Oct.  8,  1805. 
'My  DEAREST  Father, 

"In  hopes  of  rescuing  you  one  moment  from  the 
crowd  of  cares  and  occupations  which  surround  you. 


EDWARD   FAYS0:N.  21 

I  will  give  you  an  anecdote  of  ray  journey  ;  and  if  you 
condescend  to  smile  over  it,  why  so  much  the  better. 
When  seated  in  a  company  of  strange  phizzes,  I  im- 
mediately set  myself  to  decipher  them,  and  assign  a 
character  and  occupation  to  the  owner  of  each.  But 
in  the  stage  which  conveyed  roe  to  B*****,  there  was 
one  which  completely  puzzled  me.  I  could  think  of  no 
employment  that  would  fit  it,  except  that  of  a  ******* 
representative,  unless  it  was  that  of  **********j  whose 
pride,  being  confined  in  B.  by  the  pressure  of  wealth 
and  talents,  had  now  room  to  expand  itself.  A  cer- 
tain kind  of  consequential  gravity  and  pompous  so- 
lemnity, together  with  his  dress,  might  perhaps  have 
impressed  us  with  respect,  had  not  a  pair  of  rough,  cal- 
lous hands,  with  crooked,  dirty  nails,  lessened  their  ef- 
fect. During  a  pause  in  the  conversation,  he  presented 
me  with  a  paper,  which,  on  examination,  I  found  to  be 
one  of  those  quack  advertisements  which  Mr.  ****  has 
honored  with  his  signature.  Not  suspecting  in  the 
least  that  the  good  gentleman  had  any  concern  in  the 
business,  and  feeling  a  fine  flow  of  words  at  hand,  I 
began  to  entertain  my  fellow-travelers  with  its  nume- 
rous beauties  of  expression,  spelling,  and  grammar. 
Finding  them  very  attentive,  and  encouraged  by  their 
applause,  I  next  proceeded  to  utter  a  most  violent  phi- 
lippic against  quacks  of  all  denominations,  especially 
those  who  go  about  poisoning  the  ignorant  with  patent 
medicines.  I  could  not  help  observing,  however,  that 
my  eloquence,  while  it  had  a  powerful  effect  on  the 
muscles  of  the  rest  of  my  companions,  seemed  to  be 
thrown  away  on  this  gentleman  aforesaid.  But,  con- 
cluding that  his  gravity  proceeded  from  a  wish  to  keep 
up  his  dignity,  I  resolved  to  conquer  it;  and  com- 


««  *  MEMOIR   OP 

menced  a  fresh  attack,  in  which,  addressing  myself 
entirely  to  him,  I  poured  forth  all  the  ridicule  and 
abuse  which  my  own  imagination  could  suggest,  oi 
memory  could  supply — but  all  in  vain— the  more  ani 
mated  and  witty  I  was,  the  more  doleful  he  looked,  till, 
having  talked  myself  out  of  breath,  and  finding  the  lon- 
gitude cf  his  face  increase  every  moment,  I  desisted, 
very  much  mortified  that  my  efibrts  were  so  unsuc- 
cessful. But,  in  the  midst  of  my  chagrin,  the  coach 
stopped,  the  gentleman  alighted,  and  was  welcomed, 
by  a  little  squab  wife  into  a  shop,  decorated  with  the 
letters,  'Medical  Cordial  Store.'  I  afterwards  learnt 
he  is  the  greatest  quack-medicine  seller  in  B.  Excuse 
me,  my  dear  father,  for  this  long,  dull  story.  I  thought 
it  would  be  shorter.  I  feel  rather  out  of  tune  for  em- 
bellishing to-day. 

"  We  have  lately  been  in  a  hubbub  here  about  a 
theatre.  After  a  great  deal  of  dispute,  the  town  voted, 
to  the  astonishment  of  all,  that  they  would  not,  if  they 
could  help  it,  suifer  the  establishment  of  a  theatre. 
One  man  said,  and  said  publicly,  that  he  considered  it 
as  much  a  duty  to  carry  his  children  to  a  play-house, 
as  he  did  to  carry  them  to  meeting,  and  that  they  got 
more  good  by  it.  Among  the  arguments  in  favor,  it  was 
asserted,  that,  though  bad  plays  vrere  sometimes  acted, 
bad  sermons  were  likewise  preached,  and  that  the  pul- 
pit ought  to  be  pulled  down  as  much  as  the  theatre. 
Adieu,  my  dear  father,  and  believe  me  your  most  af- 
fectionate son,  Edward  Payson." 

"  October  29,  1805. 
"  I  must,  my  dear  mother,  give  you  some  account 
of  my  comforts.    In  the  first  place,  I  hav^  a  very  hand- 


EDWARD   PAYSON.  23 

some  chamber,  which  commands  a  delightful  view  of 
the  harbor  and  the  town,  with  the  adjacent  country. 
This  chamber  is  sacred ;  for  even  the  master  of  the 
house  does  not  enter  it  without  express  invitation.  At 
sunrise  a  servant  comes  and  lights  up  a  fire,  which 
soon  induces  me  to  rise,  and  I  have  nothing  to  do  but 
sit  down  to  study.  When  I  come  from  school  at  night, 
I  find  a  fire  built,  jack  and  slippers  ready,  a  lamp  as 
soon  as  it  is  dark,  and  fuel  sufficient  for  the  evening. 
An  agreement  with  a  neighboring  bookseller  furnishes 
me  with  books  in  plenty  and  variety.  The  objection 
to  our  meals  is,  they  are  too  good,  and  consist  of  too 
great  a  variety.  And  what  gives  a  zest  to  all,  without 
which  it  would  be  insipid,  is,  that  I  can  look  round 
me  and  view  all  these  comforts  as  the  effects  of  infi- 
nite, unmerited  goodness ;  of  goodness,  the  operations 
of  which  I  can  trace  through  all  my  past  life ;  of  good- 
ness, which  I  humbly  hope  and  trust  will  continue  to 
bless  me  through  all  my  future  existence." 

"  November  18,  1805. 
"  My  dear  Mother, 

"  I  last  night  witnessed  a  scene  to  which  I  had  be- 
fore been  a  stranger ;  it  was  a  death-bed  scene.  A 
young  gentleman  of  my  acquaintance,  and  nearly  of 
my  own  age,  had  been  confined  thirty-two  days,  and  I 
was  requested  to  watch  with  him ;  and  a  more  exqui- 
sitely distressing  task  I  hope  never  to  undertake.  When 
I  went,  there  was  little,  if  any  hope  of  his  life.  His 
mother — whose  favorite  he  deservedly  was — though 
she  is,  I  believe,  a  sincere  Christian,  seemed  unable 
to  support  the  idea  of  a  separation.  Fatigue  and  loss 
of  sleep  made  her  light-headed;  and,  at  times,  she 


m  MEMOIR  07 

raved  almost  as  badly  as  the  patient.  His  sister,  a  gay, 
thoughtless  girl,  Avas  in  a  paroxysm  of  loud  and  tur- 
bulent grief;  while  a  young  lady,  whom  he  was  ex- 
pecting to  marry,  heightened  the  distress  by  marks  of 
anguish  too  strong  to  be  -concealed,  and  which  seemed 
to  flow  from  tenderness  equal  to  any  thing  I  have  met 
with  in  romance.  As  I  had  seen  nothing  of  the  kind 
before,  its  effects  on  my  feelings  were  irresistible.  The 
perpetual  groans  and  ravings  of  the  dying — whose 
head  I  was  for  hours  obliged  to  support  with  one  hand 
while  I  wiped  oft' the  sweat  of  deatli  with  the  other ;  the 
inarticulate  expressions  of  anguish,  mingled  with  the 
prayers  of  the  mother  ;  the  loud  and  bitter  lamentations 
of  the  sister ;  the  stifled  agonies  of  the  young  lady,  and 
the  cries  of  the  younger  branches  of  the  family,  (the 
father  was  asleep!)  formed  a  combination  of  sounds 
which  I  could  scarcely  support.  Add  to  this  the  fright- 
ful contortions  and  apparent  agonies  of  the  poor  suf- 
ferer, with  all  the  symptoms  of  approaching  death. 
About  two  o'clock  he  died.  I  then  had  the  no  less  dif 
ficult  and  painful  task  of  endeavoring  to  quiet  the  fa- 
mily. The  mother,  when  convinced  he  was  certainly 
dead,  became  composed,  and,  with  much  persuasion 
and  some  force,  was  prevailed  upon  to  take  her  bed, 
as  were  the  rest  of  the  family,  except  the  young  lady. 
"  You  will  not  wonder  if  I  feel  to-day  exhausted  in 
body  and  mind.  Surely  there  is  no  torture  like  seeing 
distress  without  the  ability  of  removing  it.  All  day 
have  I  heard  the  dying  groans  sounding  in  my  ears.  I 
could  not  have  believed  it  possible  that  any  thing 
could  take  such  astonishing  hold  of  the  mind  ;  and,  un- 
less you  can  remember  the  first  death  you  ever  wit- 
nessed, you  can  never  conceive  how  it  affected  me. 


EDWARD   PAYSON.  25 

But,  distressing  as  it  was,  I  would  not  for  any  thing 
have  been  absent.  I  hope  it  will  be  of  service  to  me. 
It  is  better  to  go  to  the  house  of  mourning  than  to  the 
house  of  mirth.  Grief  has  a  strong  tendency  to  soften 
the  heart,  and  dispose  it  to  gratitude  and  other  affec- 
tions. An  instance  of  this  I  saw  in  this  family.  They 
are  so  grateful  to  me  for — I  don't  know  what — that 
ihey  seem  unable  to  thank  me  enough." 

^^  January  25,  1806. 

"I  had  a  letter  from  ******  last  evening.  He  is  in 
the  West  Indies,  and  has  just  recovered  from  a  fever. 
His  letter  is  more  friendly  than  any  I  have  received, 
but  it  is  not  so  serious  as  I  wish.  You  prophesied, 
when  I  was  at  home,  that  our  friendship  would  not 
last  long ;  but  since  it  has  survived  a  visit  to  the  Ca- 
taract of  Niagara,  to  Saratoga  Springs,  and  a  voyage 
to  the  West  Indies,  it  is  something  of  a  proof  that 
many  waters  cannot  quench,  neither  floods  drown  it. 

"  A  classmate,  who  has  commenced  preaching,  call- 
ed last  week  to  see  me.  Speaking  of  an  old  tutor  of 
ours,  a  very  pious  man,  who  has  lately  lost  a  much 
loved  wife,  he  mentioned  a  letter  written  by  him,  in 
which  he  says,  '  The  bell  is  now  tolling  for  my  wife's 
funeral ;  yet  I  am  happy,  happy  beyond  expression.' 
This  my  classmate  considered  as  a  sure  proof  of  a 
very  weak  or  very  insensible  mind.  It  is  needless  to 
add,  that  he  rejects  evangelical  religion,  of  the  truth 
and  reality  of  which  I  am  daily  more  and  more  con- 
vinced. But  I  cannot  wonder  so  few  embrace  it ; 
so  long  as  the  reasonings  of  the  head  continue  to 
be  influenced  by  the  feelings  of  the  heart,  men  will 
reject  it." 

3 


86  MEMOIR    OP 

"  February  9,  ISOG. 

"You  need  be  under  no  apprehension,  my  dear  mo- 
ther, that  my  present  mode  of  living  will  render  thr 
manner  of  living  in  the  most  rustic  neighborhood  dis- 
agreeable. On  the  contrary,  I  shall  be  glad  of  the  ex- 
change, as  it  respects  diet ;  for  I  find  it  no  easy  matter 
to  sit  down  to  a  table  profusely  spread  with  dainties, 
and  take  no  more  than  nature  requires  and  temperance 
allows.  And  I  should  have  infinitely  more  satisfac- 
tion in  the  conversation  of  a  plain,  unlettered  Chris- 
tian, than  in  the  unmeaning  tattle  of  the  drawing- 
room,  or  the  flippant  vivacity  of  professed  wits.  What 
gives  me  most  uneasiness,  and  what  I  fear  will  al- 
ways be  a  thorn  in  my  path,  is,  too  great  a  thirst  for 
applause.  When  I  sit  down  to  write,  I  perpetually 
catch  myself  considering,  not  wjiat  will  be  most  use- 
ful, but  what  will  be  most  likely  to  gain  praise  from 
an  audience.  If  I  should  be  unpopular,  it  would,  1 
fear,  give  me  more  uneasiness  than  it  ought ;  and  if — 
though  I  think  there  is  little  reason  to  fear  it — I  should 
in  any  degree  be  acceptable,  Avhat  a  terrible  blaze  it 
would  make  in  my  bosom !  What  a  temptation  this 
disposition  will  be  to  suppress,  or  lightly  touch  upon 
those  doctrines  which  are  most  important,  because 
they  are  disagreeable  to  most  persons !  I  should  at 
once  give  up  in  despair,  had  I  nothing  but  m.y  own 
philosophy  to  depend  on ;  but  I  hope  and  trust  I  shall 
be  enabled  to  conquer  it. 

"If  you  knew  the  many  things  which  rendered  it 
unlikely  that  I  should  continue  here  half  so  long  as  I 
have,  you  would  join  with  me  in  thinking  an  over- 
ruling Providence  very  visible  in  the  whole  affair. 
With  respect  to  continuing  longer,  I  do  not  mean  to 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  27 

form  a  single  plaa  on  the  subject.  If  I  know  any 
thing  of  my  own  heart.  I  can  appeal  to  God  as  a  wit- 
ness of  my  earnest  desire  to  be  in  the  situation  where 
he  sees  best  to  place  me,  without  any  regard  to  its  be- 
ing agreeable  or  disagreeable  ;  and  he  can,  and,  I  doubt 
not,  will  order  matters  so  as  to  shorten  or  prolong  my 
stay  here  as  he  pleases." 

'^January  15,  1806. 
"  If  you,  my  dear  mother,  can  pick  out  the  meaning 
in  the  last  page,  I  shall  be  glad ;  for  in  truth  it  is  but 
poorly  expressed.  You  must  have  observed  that  my 
letters  are  very  obscure ;  that  the  transitions  from  one 
subject  to  another  are  rapid  and  capricious.  The  rea- 
son of  this  confusion  is, — when  I  sit  down  to  write, 
forty  ideas  jump  at  once,  all  equally  eager  to  get  out, 
and  jostle  and  incommode  each  other  at  such  a  rate, 
that  not  the  most  proper,  but  the  strongest,  escapes 
first.  My  mind  would  fain  pour  itself  all  out  at  once. 
So  much  by  way  of  apology,  by  which,  as  is  usually 
the  case  with  apologies,  I  have  only  made  bad  worse." 

"  April  2,  1806. 
"  My  dear  Mother, 

"I  have  just  received  your  last  paquet.  and  am  so 
rejoiced  I  can  hardly  sit  still  enough  to  write.  They 
were  not  half  long  enough  to  satiate  me,  and  I  am 
more  hungry  than  before.  Yesterday,  in  order  to  ap- 
pease my  hunger,  I  read  over  all  the  letters  I  have  re- 
ceived this  year  past,  to  my  great  satisfaction.  You 
must  not  expect  method  nor  legible  writing.  These 
qualifications  are  necessary  in  a  billet  of  compliments, 
but  in  a  letter  to  friends,  I  despise  them.  However, 
if  my  good  friends  are  fond  of  them,  and  prefer  them 


28  MEMOIR    OF 

to  the  rapid  effusions  of  atTection  that  will  hardly  wait 
the  pen's  motion,  I  will  soon  write  a  letter  that  shall 
be  as  cold  and  as  splendid  as  an  ice-palace.  You 
may  usually  observe  my  hand-writing  is  much  belter 
at  the  beginning  than  at  the  end  of  my  letters ;  and 
this  happens  because  I  gather  warmth  as  I  write.  A 
letter  to  a  friend,  Avritten  with  exact  care,  is  like — 
'  Madam,  I  hope  I  have  the  pleasure  of  seeing  you  in 
very  good  health," — addressed  to  a  mother,  on  meet- 
ing her  after  a  years  absence. 

"I  did  not  recollect  that  I  made  use  of  a  billet  to 
enclose  my  letters.  However,  I  suppose  it  did  just 
as  well.  Pray  give  my  love  to  Phillips,  (with  the 
rest  of  the  dear  clan,)  and  tell  him,  that,  instead  ot 
being  a  sign  of  poverty,  it  is  the  surest  way  to  be  rich, 
to  save  even  the  cover  of  a  letter ;  besides,  I  have  pa- 
pa's authority  for  using  billets  in  that  way." 

These  extracts  show  how  he  appreciated  the  rela- 
tions of  son  and  brother,  and  how  just  he  was  to  all 
the  claims  which  these  relations  involve.  His  filial 
affection  is  among  the  loveliest  traits  in  his  character, 
and  it  never  suffered  any  abatement,  so  long  as  he  had 
a  parent  to  love.  He  continued  to  appropriate,  unask- 
ed, and  of  choice,  the  excess  of  his  earnings  above  his 
expenditures,  to  the  use  of  his  parents,  till  the  whole 
amount  expended  for  his  education  had  been  reim- 
bursed. By  word  and  deed,  in  the  thousand  ways 
which  affection  suggests,  he  sought  their  comfort  and 
happiness. 

It  was  not  till  the  third  year  of  his  residence  in 
Portland,  that  he  made  his  first  appearance  before  a 
popular  assembly.     On  the  4th  of  July,  1806,  at  the 


EDWARD   PAYSON.  29 

t-equest  of  the  municipal  authorities  of  the  town,  he 
pronounced  the  anniversary  oration, — a  performance 
which  secured  him  unbounded  applause,  and  which 
he  was  solicited,  with  great  earnestness,  to  allow  to 
be  published  ;  but  no  persuasion  could  induce  him  to 
give  a  copy. 


CHAPTER   III. 


IRs  religious  history  during  the  period  einbraced  in  t/ie  pre* 

ceding  chapter. 

From  the  early  part  of  1804,  religion  seems  to  have 
been  his  all-engrossing  concern ;  his  attention  was 
then  arrested,  and  fixed  so  as  never  afterwards  to  be 
diverted,  for  any  length  of  time,  from  the  subject. 
Whether  he  had  been  in  an  unconverted,  or  backslid- 
den state,  he  Avas  then  roused,  as  from  sleep,  to  take 
a  solemn  view  of  his  relations  as  an  accountable  and 
immortal  being.  The  occasion  of  this  new  or  revived 
concern  for  his  soul  was  the  death  of  a  beloved  bro- 
ther. A  letter  to  his  parents,  in  answer  to  one  which 
announced  the  sorrowful  tidings,  is  the  earliest  pro- 
duction of  his  pen,  which  has  escaped  oblivion,  and, 
on  this  account  alone,  will  be  read  with  interest.  But 
it  has  a  higher  value,  as  it  enables  us  to  date  the  com- 
mencement of  his  attention  to  his  spiritual  interests  as 
far  back  as  May  20,  1804,*  the  time  when  his  letter 

*It  has  been  stated,  on  credible  authority,  that  Dr.  Paysoa 
was  so  much  affected  by  this  bereavement,  that  he  coDfined 
M.  P.  3* 


30  MEMOIR    OF 

was  dated,  and  it  more  than  intimates  that  the  subject 
with  him  was  not  new. 

"  My  dear  mother's  fears  respecting  my  attention  to 
religious  concerns  were,  alas  !  but  too  well  founded. 
Infatuated  by  the  pleasures  and  amusements  which  this 
place  affords,  and  which  took  the  more  powerful  hold 
on  my  senses  from  being  adorned  with  a  refinement 
to  which  I  had  before  been  a  stranger,  I  gradually 
grew  cold  and  indifferent  to  religion ;  and,  though  I 
still  made  attempts  to  reform,  they  were  too  transient 
to  be  effectual. 

"From  this  careless  frame  nothing  but  a  shock 
like  that  I  have  received  could  have  roused  me ;  and 
though  my  deceitful  heart  will,  I  fear,  draw  me  back 
again  into  the  snare,  as  soon  a-s  the  first  impression  is 
worn  off,  yet  I  hope,  by  the  assistance  of  divine  grace, 
that  this  dispensation  will  prove  of  eternal  benefit. 
This  is  my  most  earnest  prayer,  and  I  know  it  will  be 
yours. 

"  In  reflecting  on  the  ends  of  Divine  Providence  m 
this  event,  I  am  greatly  distressed.  To  you,  my  dear 
parents,  it  could  not  be  necessary.  My  sister,  as  you 
sometime  since  informed  me,  has  turned  her  attention 
to  religion  ;  the  other  children  are  too  young  to  receive 
benefit  from  it.  It  remains,  then,  that  I  am  the  Achan 
who  has  drawn  down  this  punishment,  and  occasion- 
ed this  distress  to  my  friends.  My  careless,  obdurate 
heart  rendered  it  necessary  to  punish  and  humble  it 

himself  to  his  chamber  for  three  days;  and  that,  previously  to 
this  period,  he  h.u!  purposed  to  devote  himself  to  the  profes 
sion  of  the  law.  If  so,  the  affliction  was  no  less  a  mercy  to  the 
church  than  to  himself. 

"  God  is  his  own  interpreter.'* 


EDWARD   PATSON.  31 

and  O  that  the'  punishment  had  fallen  where  it  was 
due  !  But  I  can  pursue  the  subject  no  further." 

Here  is  the  subdued  tone  of  the  penitent,  "  come  to 
himself,  and  returning  to  his  Father."  Of  his  progress 
in  piety  for  the  next  six  months,  nothing  is  known  ex- 
cept what  may  be  inferred  from  a  letter  dated  Dec. 
12th  of  the  same  year.  An  extract  will  show  that  he 
was  not  inattentive  to  what  passed  in  his  own  heart, 
nor  without  experience  in  the  Christian  conflict. 

"  I  have  nothing  but  complaints  of  myself  to  make, 
nothing  but  the  same  old  story  of  erring  and  repent- 
ing, but  never  reforming.  I  fear  I  am  in  a  sad  way. 
I  attend  public  worship  and  think  of  every  subject  but 
the  proper  one ;  or  if,  by  strong  exertions,  I  fix  my  at- 
tention for  a  few  minutes,  I  feel  an  irresistible  pro- 
pensity to  criticise  the  preacher,  instead  of  attending 
to  the  instructions ;  and,  notwithstanding  a  full  con- 
viction that  this  conduct  is  wrong,  I  persist  in  it  still. 
Hence  it  happens  that  the  Sabbath,  which  is  so  ad- 
mirably calculated  to  keep  alive  a  sense  of  religion, 
becomes  a  stumbling-block.  The  thought  of  my  sin- 
ful neglect  and  inattention  so  shames  and  distresses 
me,  that  I  am  unable  to  approach  the  throne  of  grace, 
through  shame.  As  this,  I  know,  is  the  fruit  of  a 
self-righteous  spirit,  I  strive  against  it ;  and  after  two 
or  three  days,  perhaps,  am  enabled  to  trust  in  Christ 
for  the  pardon  of  that  and  other  sins.  But,  another 
Sabbath,  the  same  round  is  repeated.  Thus  I  go  on, 
sinning  and  humbling  myself  after  long  seeking  for  a 
proper  sense  of  my  sin,  then  confessing  it  with  con- 
trition and  remorse  ;  and,  the  next  moment,  even  while 
the  joy  of  obtained  pardon  and  gratitude  for  divine 
favor  is  thrilling  in  my  hearty  plunging,  on  the  most 


3!3  MEMOIR  or 

trivial  temptation,  into  the  same  error,  whose  bitter 
consequences  I  had  so  lately  felt.  Shame  and  remorse 
for  the  ungrateful  returns  I  have  made  for  the  bless- 
ings bestowed,  prevent  secret  prayer,  frequently  for 
two  or  three  days  together,  until  I  can  no  longer  sup- 
port it ;  and  though  I  have  so  often  experienced  for- 
giving love,  I  am  too  proud  to  ask  for  it." 

A  few  weeks  afterwards  he  writes  thus : — "  I  feel 
convinced  by  experience,  that,  if  I  relax  my  exertions 
for  ever  so  short  a  time,  it  will  require  additional  ex- 
ertions to  repair  it,  and  perhaps  occasion  a  week's 
gloom  and  despondency ;  yet  the  least  temptation 
leads  me  to  do  what  I  feel  conscious,  at  the  time,  I 
shall  severely  smart  for.  In  the  impracticable  attempt 
to  reconcile  God  and  the  world,  I  spend  my  time  very 
unhappily,  neither  enjoying  the  comforts  of  this  world 
nor  of  religion.  But  I  have  at  last  determined  to  re- 
nounce the  false  pleasures  for  which  I  pay  so  dear ; 
and  this  I  should  have  done  long  ago,  but  for  the  advice 
and  example  of  some  whose  judgment  I  respected. 

"  I  have  lately  been  severely  tried  with  doubts  and 
difficulties  respecting  many  parts  of  Scripture.  Read- 
ing the  other  day,  I  met -with  this  passage,  'for  his 
great  name's  sake.'  It  was  immediately  suggested  to 
my  mind,  that,  as  the  Deity  bestowed  all  his  favor  on 
us  '  for  his  great  name's  sake,'  we  were  under  no  ob- 
ligation to  feel  grateful  for  them.  And  though  my  heart 
assented  to  the  propriety  of  gratitude,  my  head  would 
not.  In  hearing  my  scholars  recite  the  Greek  Testa- 
ment, I  am  disturbed  by  numberless  seeming  incon- 
sistencies and  doubts,  which,  though  they  do  not  shake 
my  belief,  render  me  for  a  time  extremely  miserable. 
I  find  no  relief,  in  these  trials,  from  the  treatises  which 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  33 

have  been  written  in  proof  of  the  truth  of  revelation. 
It  is  from  a  different  source  that  assistance  is  received." 

"  April  20,  1805. 
"  My  dearest  Mother, 

"  I  have  just  been  perusing  something  excessively 
interesting  to  my  feelings.  It  is  a  short  extract  from 
your  journal  in  my  sister's  letter.  Surely  it  is  my  own 
fault  that  I  do  not  resemble  Samuel  in  more  instances 
than  one.  What  a  disgrace  to  me,  that,  with  such  rare 
and  mestimable  advantages,  I  have  made  no  greater 
progress  !  However,  thanks  to  the  fervent,  effectual 
prayer  of  my  righteous  parents,  and  the  tender  mercies 
of  my  God  upon  me,  I  have  reason  to  hope  that  the 
pious  wishes  breathed  over  my  infant  head  are  in 
some  measure  fulfilled  ;  nor  would  I  exchange  the  be- 
nefits which  I  have  received  from  my  parents  for  the 
inheritance  of  any  monarch*  in  the  universe. 

"  I  feel  inclined  to  hope  that  I  am  progressing, 
though  by  slow  and  imperceptible  degrees,  in  the 
knowledge  of  divine  things.  On  comparing  my  former 
and  present  views,  I  find  that  the  latter  are  much  less 
confused  and  perplexed ;  that  I  have  clearer  concep- 
tions of  my  utter  inability  to  take  a  single  step  in  reli- 
gion without  divine  assistance,  of  the  consequent  ne- 
cessity of  a  Savior,  and  of  the  way  of  salvation  by 
him.  Yet  I  cannot  find  that  my  conduct,  my  heart,  or 

*  The  admirers  of  Cowper — between  whom  and  the  subject 
if  this  Memoir  there  are  several  strong  points  of  resemblance 
—will  be  reminded,  at  once,  of  those  beautiful  lines : 
"  My  boast  is  not  that  I  deduce  my  birth 
"  From  loins  enthroned,  and  rulers  of  the  earth, 
*'  But  higher  far  my  proud  pretensions  rise — 
"  The  son  of  parents  passed  into  the  skies." 


34  MEMOIR    OP 

disposition,  is  made  better.    On  the  contrary,  I  fear 
they  are  worse  than  ever." 

June  12,  1805. 

"  I  find  I  have  been  trying  to  establish  a  righ- 
teousness of  my  own,  though  till  lately  I  thought  my- 
self free  from  any  such  design.  Hence  arose  all  that 
umvillingness  to  perform  the  public  and  private  exer- 
cises of  devotion  which  I  felt  after  any  neglect  of 
duty.  I  wanted,  forsooth,  to  be  encouraged  to  hope 
for  an  answer  of  peace  by  some  merits  of  my  own, 
and  so  felt  unwilling  to  approach  the  throne  of  grace 
when  I  had  been  guilty  of  any  thing  which  lessened 
my  stock  of  goodness.  In  short,  it  was  the  same  kind 
of  reluctance  which  I  should  feel  to  approach  a  fellow 
being  whom  I  had  injured.  And  this,  which  I  now 
see  arose  from  pride,  I  fondly  thought  was  the  efliect 
of  great  humility.  Finding  myself  so  deceived  here, 
and  in  numberless  other  instances,  I  am  utterly  at  a 
loss  what  to  do.  If  I  attempt  to  perform  any  duty,  1 
am  afraid  it  is  only  an  attempt  to  build  up  a  fabric  of 
my  own ;  and  if  I  neglect  it,  the  case  is  still  worse. 


"  Since  the  period  of  my  leaving  home  for  Cam- 
bridge, it  has  appeared  the  most  discouraging  circum- 
stance attending  the  spread  of  religion,  that  many  who 
undertake  to  preach  it  are  so  shamefully  negligent.  Oi 
this,  my  dear  mother,  you  can  form  no  just  idea,  un 
less  you  have  heard  them.  While  their  hearers  are 
wishing  and  longing  for  spiritual  food,  they  are  obliged 
to  rest  content  with  cold,  dry  lectures  on  morality,  en- 
forced by  any  motives  rather  than  evangelical.  These 


EDWARD    PAY  SON.  35 

ministers  content  themselves,  generally,  with  pruning 
off  some  of  the  most  prominent  excrescences  of  vice  ; 
they  leave  the  root  untouched,  and  cut  off  only  the 
leaves.  The  more  I  think  of  it,  the  more  difficult  does 
the  duty  appear ;  and  I  tremble  at  the  thought  of  in- 
curring such  a  responsibility.  I  fear,  however,  that 
part  of  my  reluctance  arises  from  an  indolent  disposi- 
tion, from  an  unwillingness  to  encounter  the  fatigues, 
the  difficulties  and  dangers  attending  the  performance 
of  a  clergyman's  duty.  I  am  afraid  of  conferring  too 
much  with  flesh  and  blood." 

The  next  notices  which  he  has  left  of  himself  are 
found  in  a  manuscript  volume,  written  in  characters 
which  it  has  been  a  long  and  difficult  work  to  deci- 
pher.   The  following  are  the  first  two  paragraphs : — 

^'■July  25,  1805.  This  day,  being  my  twenty-second 
birth-day,  I  have  determined  to  commence  a  diary,  as 
a  check  on  the  misemployment  of  time." 

Same  date.  "  Having  resolved  this  day  to  dedicate 
myself  to  my  Creator,  in  a  serious  and  solemn  manner, 
by  a  written  covenant,  I  took  a  review  of  my  past  life, 
and  of  the  numerous  mercies  by  which  it  has  been  dis- 
tinguished. Then,  with  sincerity,  as  I  humbly  hope, 
I  took  the  Lord  to  be  my  God,  and  engaged  to  love, 
serve,  and  obey  him.  Relying  on  the  assistance  of  his 
Koly  Spirit,  I  engaged  to  take  the  Holy  Scriptures  as 
ihe  rule  of  my  conduct,  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  to  be 
my  Savior,  and  the  Spirit  of  ail  grace  and  consolation 
as  my  Guide  and  Sanctifier.  The  vows  of  God  are 
upon  me." 

Subsequent  entries  in  his  diary  show  an  ever-active 
desire  to  "  pay  the  vows  which  his  lips  had  uttered." 


36  MEMOIR   OP 

He  made  strenuous  efforts  to  redeem  the  mornmg  hours 
from  sleep,  that  he  might  enjoy  an  uninterrupted  sea- 
son for  reading  tiie  Scriptures,  and  other  devotional 
exercises;  and,  when  he  failed  of  this,  he  suftered 
much  in  consequence,  and  lamented  it  with  deep  feel- 
ing. His  diligence  in  business,  as  well  as  fervor  of 
spirit,  are  abundantly  apparent  from  the  account  which 
he  has  given  of  the  employment  of  every  hour,  from 
four  in  the  morning  to  ten  at  night. — In  a  letter  to  his 
parents,  written  on  this  anniversary,  he  speaks  of  hav- 
mg  already  "paid  considerable  attention  to  divinity," 
and  of  expecting,  ''  in  another  year,  to  commence 
preaching,  if  he  should  feel  competent  to  such  an  un- 
dertaking." 

'•Portland,  July  25,  1805. 
"  My  dear  Parent  , 

"  This  day,  which  completes  my  twenty-second  year 
renews  the  remembrance  of  the  numerous  claims  your 
continued  care  and  kindness  have  on  my  gratitude  and 
affection.  To  you,  next  to  my  heavenly  Father,  I  owe 
that  I  exist,  that  I  am  in  a  situation  to  support  myself, 
and,  what  is  a  still  greater  obligation,  to  your  admo- 
nitions and  instructions  I  am  indebted  for  all  the  moral 
and  religious  impressions  which  are  imprinted  in  my 
mind,  and  which,  I  hope,  under  God,  will  give  me 
reason  to  love  and  bless  you  through  eternity.  How 
can  I  feel  sufficient  gratitude  to  the  Giver  of  all  good 
for  blessing  me  with  such  parents !  and  how  can  I 
thank  you  sufficiently  for  all  the  kindness  you  have 
lavished  upon  me,  as  yet  without  return  !  But  it  shall 
be  the  study  of  my  life  to  show  that  I  am  not  utterly 
devoid  of  every  sentiment  of  gratitude  and  duty.  Par 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  37 

don  me,  my  dearest  parents,  for  all  the  pain,  the  trou- 
ble, and  anxiety  1  have  given  you,  and  believe  me 
while  I  promise  never  knowingly  to  be  guilty  of  any 
thing  to  increase  the  uneasiness  I  have  already  occa- 
sioned you.  I  consider  it  as  one  of  my  greatest  bless- 
ings, that  I  am  noAV  in  a  situation  which  prevents  my 
being  a  charge  to  you,  and  which,  besides,  might  en- 
able me,  in  case  of  misfortune,  to  repay  some  small 
part  of  the  kindness  I  have  received.  I,  with  all  1  do 
or  may  possess,  am  your  property,  for  you  alone  put 
me  in  a  situation  to  obtain  it.  And  if  there  be  any 
thing  (as  I  doubt  not  there  is)  which  could  contribute 
to  your  happiness,  in  my  power  to  procure  fey  you,  I 
most  earnestly  entreat  you  to  let  me  know  it ;  and  if  I 
do  not  with  the  utmost  pleasure  comply,  cast  me  off  as 
an  ungrateful  wretch,  utterly  unworthy  of  your  kind- 
ness and  affection." 

Mr.  Payson  made  a  public  profession  of  religion 
September  1,  1S05.  He  connected  himself  originally 
with  the  church  in  R.indge,  under  the  pastoral  care  of 
his  father,  while  on  a  visit  to  his  parents  during  one 
of  his  quarterly  vacations.  Of  his  exercises  in  the  near 
prospect  of  this  solemn  a^t,  not  a  memorial  remains. 
The  only  direct  allusion  to  thj^?  public  dedication  of 
himself  to  God,  is  in  a  letter  to  his  mother,  written  a 
short  time  afterwards,  in  which  he  says — "  As  yet  I 
have  no  reason  to  repent  of  the  step  I  took  while  at 
home.  On  tKe  contrary,  I  esteem  it  a  great  blessing 
that  no  obstacles  prevented  it."  He  adds,  "I  have 
felt  wondrous  brave  and  resolute  since  my  return ;  but 
I  rejoice  with  trembling.  If  I  know  any  thing  of  my- 
self, I  shall  need  pretty  severe  discipline  through  life; 

M.  p.  4 


38  MEMOIR  or 

and  I  often  shrink  at  the  thought  of  the  conflicts  that 
await  me,  but  am  encouraged  by  the  promise  that  my 
strength  shall  be  equal  to  my  day."  Never  were  ap- 
prehensions and  hopes  more  si^sfnally  realized.  He 
who  "  tempers  the  wind  to  the  shorn  lamb,"  however, 
reserved  the  bitterest  trials  for  a  confirxTied  state  of  re- 
ligious experience,  mercifully  indulging"  his  servant 
with  the  light  of  his  countenance,  and  a  peaceful  and 
happy  progress  in  his  pilgrimage,  in  its  earliest  stages, 
October  6th,  he  writes — "  I  know  it  will  add  to  your 
happiness,  my  dear  mother,  to  hear  that  I  possess  a 
large  quantity  of  that  desirable  commodity.  Since  my 
return  firom  Rindge,  bating  a  few  disagreeable  days 
after  parting  with  my  friends,  I  have  hardly  known 
one  unhappy  moment.  The  doubts  which  formerly  ob- 
scured my  mind  are  dissipated,  and  I  have  enjoyed, 
and  do  still  enjoy,  mental  peace,  and,  at  times,  happi- 
ness inexpressible.  When  I  am  thus  happy,  it  renders 
me  so  benevolent  that  I  want  to  make  every  one  par- 
take of  it,  and  can  hardly  forbear  preaching  to  every 
man  I  see.  At  the  same  time,  the  thought  of  what  I 
deserve,  compared  with  what  I  enjoy,  humbles  me  to 
the  dust ;  and  the  lower  I  get,  the  more  happy  do  I 
feel ;  and  then  I  am  so  full  of  gratitude  and  love,  I 
can  hardly  support  it.  My  only  source  of  unhappi- 
ness,  at  such  times,  is  the  moral  certainty  that  I  shall 
again  offend  that  C4od  who  is  so  infinitely,  so  conde- 
scendingly kind.  This,  indeed,  seems  impossible  at 
the  time  ;  it  then  seems  that  worldly  objects  cannot 
possibly  again  acquire  an  undue  influence  over  my 
mind.  *  *  *  *  To  think  that  I  shall  again  become 
cold  and  inanimate,  that  I  shall  again  offend  and  grieve 
the  Holy  Spirit,  and  perhaps  be  left  openly  to  disho- 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  39 

nor  the  holy  name  by  which  I  am  called — my  dear 
mother,  how  distressing  !" 

"  October  29. 

"  These  worldly  comforts  are  nothing  to  the 

serenity  and  peace  of  mind  with  which  I  am  favored, 
and  the  happiness  arising  from  love,  gratitude,  and 
confidence.  Even  contrition  and  remorse  for  having 
slighted  so  long  such  infinite  and  condescending  mer- 
cy, is  not  without  a  pleasing  kind  of  pain.  But  I  know 
this  state  of  things  is  too  good  to  continue  long  ;  and 
I  hope  I  shall  be  enabled  to  take  up  with  a  much 
smaller  number  of  the  comforts  of  life  without  mur- 
muring." 

In  a  letter,  dated  November  11th,  he  says,  "  The 
happiness  I  mentioned  in  my  last,  and  in  which  you 
so  kindly  participate,  I  still  enjoy,  though  dimin- 
ished, in  some  degree,  by  an  examination  I  have  been 
making  respecting  some  important  but  perplexiiig 
truths." 

Some  weeks  after  this  he  wrote — "  I  did  not  intend 
to  say  another  word  about  my  feelings  ;  but  I  must, 
or  else  cease  writing.  I  am  so  happy  that  I  cannot 
possibly  thmk  nor  write  of  any  thing  else.  Such  a 
glorious,  beautiful,  consistent  scheme  for  the  redemp- 
tion of  such  miserable  wretches  ! — such  infinite  love 
and  goodness,  joined  with  such  wisdom  !  I  would,  if 
possible,  raise  my  voice  so  that  the  whole  universe, 
to  its  remotest  bounds,  might  hear  me,  if  any  language 
could  be  found  worthy  of  such  a  subject.  How  trans- 
porting, and  yet  how  humiliating,  are  the  displays  of 
divine  goodness,  which,  at  some  favored  moments,  we 
feel !  what  happmess  in  humbling  ourselves  in  the 
dust,  and  confessing  our  sins  and  unworthiness  !" 


40  MEMOIR    OF 

A  solicitude  for  the  spiritual  welfare  of  others,  which 
is  among  the  early  fruits  of  experimental  religion,  and 
one  of  the  most  pleasing  evidences  of  its  existence, 
was,  in  Mr.  Payson,  coeval  with  his  profession  of  the 
faith  and  hope  of  the  Gospel.  Of  this  his  pupils,  as 
was  to  be  expected,  were  always  the  most  interesting 
objects. — September  20tli  he  writes — "  Last  Saturday 
I  gave  my  scholars  six  questions  in  the  catechism  and 
a  hymn  to  commit  to  memory  on  the  Sabbath  ;  and, 
on  Monday  morning,  after  hearing  them  recite,  I  lec- 
tured them  on  the  subjects  about  three  quarters  of  an 
hour.  They  paid  strict  attention.  It  is,  however,  dis- 
couraging to  attempt  any  thing  of  this  kind,  and  a 
most  lively  faith  alone  can  make  it  otherwise.  Is  it 
not  astonishing,  that  those  who  have  a  just  sense  of 
the  importance  of  religion  are  not  more  earnest  in  re- 
commending it  to  others  ?  One  would  suppose  they 
could  hardly  refrain  from  preaching  to  them  in  the 
streets.  The  reason  we  do  not  is,  we  have  not  a  just 
sense  of  it." 

"  October  29. 

"  I  hope  your  narrative — for  which  I  thank  you — will 
have  a  tendency  to  stir  me  up.  I  feel  a  strong  and  abid- 
ing impression  on  my  mind,  that  all  the  good  I  enjoy 
my  friends  were  stirred  up  to  pray  for ;  and  I  hope  that 
my  scholars  also,  in  this  case,  will  reap  the  benefit, 
When  I  look  at  them,  and  reflect  how  many  dangers 
they  are  exposed  to,  what  bad  examples  even  the  pa- 
rents of  many  set  "them,  and  how  few  hear  any  thing 
like  religious  instruction,  I  cannot  express  my  feelings. 
Lately  I  feel  a  great  flow  of  words  when  addressing 
them ;  however,  it  is  just  like  sjjeaking  to  dry  bones, 
unless  a  divine  blessing  assist.  If  I  could  be  the  means 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  41 

of  doing  good  only  to  one,  what  transport !  Thank 
God,  it  does  not  depend  on  the  means,  but  on  himself; 
otherwise  I  should  give  up  in  despair." 

"  January  15,  1806. 

"  This  morning  I  was  highly  favored  in  speaking 
to  my  scholars.  I  spoke  nearly  three  quarters  of  an 
hour  with  some  earnestness,  though  not  so  much  as  I 
could  have  wished.  Except  once,  I  have  felt  a  very 
considerable  share  of  freedom  on  these  occasions. 
Your  mentioning  that  you  were  enabled  to  pray  for  a 
blessing  on  these  poor  endeavors  has  been  a  great  en- 
couragement to  me.  They  are  attentive,  and  a  very 
perceptible  difference  has  taken  place  in  their  attention 
to  their  studies.  I  hope  that,  sooner  or  later,  they  will 
become  attentive  to  more  important  pursuits.  I  am  al- 
most afraid  to  write  even  to  you,  my  dear  mother,  on 
these  subjects,  lest  I  should  make  some  gross  blunder, 
through  my  ignorance  and  inexperience.  I  have  often 
observed,  that  persons  Avho  begin  to  read  late  in  life 
are  apt  to  think  every  thing  thsy  meet  with  in  books 
as  new  to  others  as  it  is  to  them,  and  so  make  them- 
selves ridiculous  by  retailing,  as  novelty,  what  every 
one  knew  before.  In  like  manner,  I  am  somewhat  ap- 
prehensive of  appearing  to  you,  in  mentioning  my 
own  feelings,  as  one  who  is  detailing  last  year's  news; 
for  your  ideas  and  feelings  must  be  so  far  beyond  mine,, 
that  it  will  require  some  patience  to  read  my  relations. 
However,  I  trust  to  your  goodness,  and  hope  you  will 
remember,  that  many  things,  which  are  now  plain  and 
common,  were  once  dark  and  unusual  to  you.  I  am 
pursuing  my  studies  pretty  much  at  random,  having 
no  person  to  advise  with." 

M.  P.  4* 


42  MEMOIR   OF 

This  anxiety  for  the  souls  of  his  fellow-creatures 
marked  his  intercourse  with  associates  of  the  same 
standing  with  himself.  One  of  his  valued  companions 
in  literary  pursuits  has  furnished  the  following  ex- 
tracts from  his  pen  :  "^ 

"  December  2,  1805. 
"  There  is  no  worldly  blessing  that  is  not  heightened 
by  religion,  but  none  more  so  than  friendship,  whether 
it  be  between  relatives  by  consanguinity,  or  those  who 
are  joined  in  marriage,  or  other  friends.  The  idea  of 
parting  must  imbitter  the  pleasure  of  the  man  of  the 
world ;  but  the  Christian,  if  he  has  chosen  his  friends 
aright,  may  hope  to  enjoy  their  society  with  more  plea- 
sure hereafter  than  he  can  now.  For  this  reason  I 
never  should  choose  a  partner  for  life  whom  I  could 
not  hope  to  meet  beyond  the  tomb." 

"  December  9. 

"  You  ascribe,  my  friend,  too  much  to  age  and  a  cul- 
tivated mind,  when  you  speak  of  them  as  inconsistent 
with  a  '  stupid  blindness  respecting  futurity.'  Sad  ex- 
perience shows  that  age  the  most  mature,  and  minds 
the  most  cultivated,  are  too  often  under  the  operation 
of  such  a  blindness.  Who,  among  the  walks  of  sci- 
ence, ambition,  avarice,  or  pleasure,  is  not  blind  to  his 
own  mortality  ?  Who  is  there  that  sees  that  every 
hour  of  his  life  he  infringes  that  law  which  says — 
'  cursed  is  every  one  that  continueth  not  in  all  things 
written  therein  to  do  them  ?'  Who  sees  that  his  brittle 
thread  of  life  is  all  on  which  he  hangs  over  endless 
misery ;  and  that,  if  any  one  of  the  many  dangers  to 
which  he  is  exposed  should  be  permitted  to  crush  him. 


EDWARD   PAYSON.  43 

he  would,  in  a  moment,  be  the  subject  of  despair  ?  No 
age,  no  improvement  of  the  mind,  will  make  us  see 
these  truths  to  be  such.  We  may  assent  to  them,  but 
our  conduct  shows  we  do  not  believe  them.  You  do 
not  yet,  my  friend,  know  the  difficulty  of  the  task. 
Consider,  first,  that  the  divine  law  extends  to  the 
thoughts,  and  that  it  makes  no  allowance  for  human 
infirmity,  and  then  shut  yourself  up  alone,  oiit  of  the 
reach  of  temptation,  and  try  for  one  hour  to  be  inno- 
cent, and  you  will  find,  by  the  numberless  foolish 
thoughts  and  vicious  propensities  arising  in  your  mind, 
that  it  is  no  easy  thing  to  be  negatively  good.  When, 
in  addition  to  this,  you  consider  that  sins  of  omission 
are  equaUy  fatal  with  sins  of  commission,  you  must 
certainly,  if  you  know  any  thing  of  your  own  heart, 
give  up  in  despair.  I  write  this  not  to  discourage  you, 
but  to  urge  the  immediate  commencement  of  a  work  so 
difficult  and  so  important ;  and  still  more  to  induce 
you  to  apply  to  One  who  can  give  you  strength,  and 
will  give  it,  if  asked  for  in  a  full  conviction  of  your 
own  weakness.  You  know  nothing  of  your  own  heart; 
and,  though  you  may  not  assent  to  this  now,  the  time, 
I  hope  and  trust,  will  come,  when  you  will  assent  to 
it.  You  may  not  now  believe  that  naturally,  like  all 
others,  you  are  an  enemy  to  God  and  his  goodness — 
but  you  must  assent  to  it." 

"  May  8. 
"  Take  my  word  for  it,  there  is  inexpressibly  more 
enjoyment  in  religion,  in  this  life,  than  the  most  hap- 
py sinner  since  creation  ever  had  to  boJist  of.  It  ap- 
pears gloomy  at  a  distance,  but,  the  nearer  it  approaches 
the  more  delightful  it  becomes.  You  know  that  I  am 
of  a  social  turn,  that  I  enjoy,  or  did  enjoy,  amusements 


44  MEMOIR    OF 

about  as  well  as  others  did,  and  that  I  have  no  parti- 
cular reason  for  flying  from  them.  You  know,  too,  that 
I  love  you,  and  would  promote  your  interest  to  the  ex- 
tent of  my  powers.  You  may  then  consider  me,  if  you 
are  so  disposed,  an  impartial  witness  that  the  ways  of 
wisdom  are  ways  of  pleasantness,  and  all  her  paths 
peace.  I  hope  and  believe  that  your  own  feelings  may 
attest  the  truth  of  my  testimony.  That  you  may  know 
more  and  more  of  it,  is  the  sincere  prayer  of  your 
friend." 

''July  7. 

"  I  dare  pledge  any  thing  most  dear  to  me,  that,  if 
you  persist  in  the  diligent  use  of  the  means  suggested, 
you  shall  not  long  use  them  in  vain.  But,  what  is  in- 
finitely more  to  the  purpose,  you  have  the  oath  of  Him 
who  cannot  lie,  on  which  to  ground  your  hopes.  You 
have  nothing  to  do  but,  in  the  exercise  of  faith,  to  come, 
as  the  leper  did  to  our  Savior  while  on  earth,  and 
throw  yourself  at  his  feet,  with — '  Lord,  if  thou  wilt, 
thou  canst  make  me  clean ;'  and  rest  assured  that  he 
will  put  forth  his  hand  and  say — '  I  will ;  be  thou 
clean.'  He  is  still  as  able  and  as  willing  to  grant  every 
request  of  this  nature  as  he  was  on  earth.  If  you  really 
feel  yourself  a  sinner,  and  that  you  have  no  power  to 
save  yourself,  and  are  willing  to  accept  of  him  as  a 
Savior,  he  is  ready  to  receive  you.  Do  not  wait,  be- 
fore you  accept  his  offers,  to  render  yourself  worthy  of 
his  favor  by  going  about  to  establish  a  righteousness 
of  your  own*  He  will  not  be  a  half  Savior.  He  will 
do  all  or  nothing.  If  you  mean  to  come  to  him,  you 
must  come  as  a  helpless  sinner ;  not  as  the  Pharisee, 
with  a  list  of  virtuous  deeds  performed,  but  as  the 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  45 

publican,  with — '  Lord,  be  merciful  to  me  a  sinner.'  " 

On  account  of  the  station  he  occupied,  as  well  as 
the  inexhaustible  fund  of  entertainment  which  he  could 
carry  into  company,  he  was  frequently  solicited  to  make 
one  of  a  visiting  party,  and  to  mingle  in  society  on 
various  occasions.  The  nature  of  the  trials  hence  aris- 
ing, as  well  as  their  issue,  will  be  seen  from  a  few 
extracts. 

"  After  long  doubting  the  propriety,  and  even  the 
lawfulness,  of  mixing  at  all  in  society,  where  duty 
does  not  call,  and  after  smarting  a  number  of  times  for 
indulging  myself  in  it — more,  however,  through  fear 
of  offending,  than  for  any  pleasure  I  find  in  it — I  am  at 
length  brought  to  renounce  it  entirely ;  and  it  is  not  a 
needless  scrupulosity.  It  does  appear  a  duty  to  shun 
all  communication  with  the  world,  when  there  is  no 
well-grounded  reason  to  hope  to  do  good.  There  are, 
to  be  sure,  many  very  plausible  reasons,  but  I  doubt 
whether  they  will  bear  the  test  of  Scripture." 

To  one  who  urged  him  to  go  into  society  and  fre- 
quent public  amusements,  he  wrote  : 

"  Can  a  man  walk  on  pitch,  and  his  feet  not  be  de- 
filed ?  Can  a  man  take  coals  of  fire  in  his  bosom,  and 
his  clothes  not  be  burned  ?  If  he  can,  he  may  then 
mix  freely  with  the  world,  and  not  be  contaminated. 
But  I  am  not  the  one  who  can  do  it.  I  cannot  think  it 
proper  or  expedient  for  a  Christian  to  go  into  any  com- 
pany, unless  necessity  calls,  where  he  may,  perhaps, 
hear  the  name  he  loves  and  reverences  blasphemed,  or 
at  least  profaned — where  that  book,  which  he  esteems 
the  word  of  God,  will,  if  mentioned,  be  alluded  to  only 
to  waken  laughter  or  '  adorn  a  tale,' — where  the  laws 
of  good  breeding  are  almost  the  only  laws  which  may 


46  -  MEMOIR    OF 

not  be  broken  with  impunity — and  where  every  thing 
he  hears  or  sees  has  a  strong  tendency  to  extinguish 
the  glow  of  devotion,  and  entirely  banish  seriousness. 
I  speak  only  for  myself.  Others  may  experience  no 
bad  effects ;  but,  for  myself,  when  I  go  into  company, 
if  it  is  pleasant  and  agreeable,  it  has  a  tendency  only 
to  fix  my  thoughts  on  earth,  from  which  it  is  my  duty 
and  my  desire  to  turn  them — to  give  me  a  distaste  for 
serious  duties,  especially  prayer  and  meditation  ;  and 
to  render  me  desirous  of  the  applause  and  approbation 
cf  those  with  whom  I  associate.  I  cannot  avoid  feel- 
ing some  desire  for  its  friendship ;  and  this  friendship, 
the  apostle  assures  us,  and  my  own  experience  feel- 
ingly convinces  me,  is  enmity  with  God."' 

"  I  have  at  length  obtained  satisfaction  respecting  my 
doubts  about  society ;  not,  however,  till  I  Avas  brought 
to  give  it  up.  After  I  had  done  so,  it  appeared  so  plain 
and  proper,  that  I  wondered  how  a  doubt  could  ever 
have  arisen  on  this  subject.  Now,  I  shall  hardly  see  a 
person  in  a  week  except  our  own  family ;  and  I  have 
no  doubt  of  being  much  happier  for  it.  Two  or  three 
plain  rules  I  find  of  wonderful  service  in  deciding  all 
difficult  cases.  One  is,  to  do  nothing  ofichich  I donht 
in  any  degree  the  lawfulness  ;  the  secondi,  to  consider 
every  thing  as  unlawful  which  indisposes  me  for 
prayer^  and  interrupts  communion  with  God ;  and 
the  third  is,  never  to  go  into  any  company,  business^ 
or  situation,  in  which  I  cannot  conscientiously  ask 
and  expect  the  divine  presence.  By  the  help  of  these 
three  rules  I  settle  all  my  doubts  in  a  trice,  and  find 
that  many  things  I  have  hitherto  indulged  in,  are,  if 
not  utterly  unlawful,  at  least  inexpedient,  and  I  can 
renounce  them  without  many  sighs." 


EDWARD   PAYSON-  47 

His  determination  to  exclude  himself  from  company 
was  very  conscientiously  formed ;  and,  so  far  was  he 
from  making  his  own  practice  a  law  for  others  in  this 
matter,  he  expressly  assigns  his  "weakness  and  in- 
experience "  as  the  reason  why  he  "  could  not  indulge 
in  society  without  detriment."  Besides,  situated  as  he 
was,  he  saw  "  no  medium  between  the  life  of  a  re- 
cluse and  that  of  a  votary  of  pleasure.*'  If  such  were 
the  alternative,  his  decision  is  to  be  approved.  It  re- 
sulted from  a  right  application  of  his  "  th.ee  plain 
rules,"  which  are  certainly  Scriptural,  and  worthy  of 
universal  adoption.  This  course  was  not  the  fruit  of 
misanthropic  feelings  ;  for  no  man  was  more  suscep- 
tible of  the  delights  of  friendship,  or  more  highly  ap- 
preciated its  benefits ;  but  how  "  can  two  walk  toge- 
ther except  they  be  agreed  ?"  His  heart  now  sighed  for 
friendships  founded  on  a  religious  basis.  He  speaks  of 
"  a  friend,  w^th  whom  he  could  converse  on  religious 
subjects,  as  having  long  been  a  desideratum;"  and 
when  he  thought  he  had  found  such  a  one  among  his 
former  beloved  associates,  he  expresses  the  most  ar- 
dent gratitude  to  the  Giver  of  every  good  gift.  "  1  feel 
a  satisfaction,"  he  writes,  "  on  this  discovery,  similar 
to  what  I  should  feel  at  meeting  a  townsman  in  a  de- 
sert island.  You,  who  live  in  the  midst  of  Christian 
friends,  can  hardly  conceive  of  it.  Associates  are  plea- 
sant in  any  pursuit,  but  especially  so  in  this.  Two  are 
better  than  one.  We  shall  together  be  better  able  to 
stand  our  ground  against  the  assaults  of  ridicule  and 
reproach ;  and  may  animate  and  encourage  each  other 
in  our  course." 

Having,  in  a  letter  to  his  mother,  expressed  himself 
as  ready  to  give  almost  any  thing  he  possessed  for  an 


48  MEMOIR   OF 

'  experienced  friend,"  he  anticipates  her  reply, — "You 
will  say,  perhaps,  the  Bible  is  a  friend,  Avhich,  if  duly 
consulted,  would  supersede  the  necessity  of  any  other 
adviser.  It  may  be  so  ;  but  we  are  apt  to  be  bad  com- 
mentators where  we  are  concerned  ourselves.  A 
friend  can  judge  of  our  concerns,  and  give  us  better 
counsel  than,  perhaps,  he  would  give  himself.  We 
are  but  poor  casuists  in  our  own  affairs." 

Some  miscellaneous  extracts  will  now  be  given. 

"  December  8,  1805. 
'•  Though  I  have  experienced  many  and  great  com- 
forts, yet  I  am  at  times  almost  discouraged.  My  heart 
seems  to  be  a  soil  so  bad,  that  all  labor  is  thrown 
away  upon  it ;  for,  instead  of  growing  better,  it  grows 
worse.  "W  hat  a  Vv-earisome  task,  or  rather  conflict,  it 
is,  to  be  always  fighting  with  an  enemy,  whom  no  de- 
feats can  weaken  or  tire.  I  am  afraid  that  many  of  my 
desires  to  be  delivered  from  his  power  proceed  rather 
from  a  sinful  impatience  than  a  better  source.  But  it 
is  most  distressing,  when  favored  with  manifestations 
of  a  Savior's  love,  to  think  Ave  shall  again  sin  against 
and  grieve  him  ;  especially  in  the  sacrament  of  the 
supper,  the  idea  that  I  shall  certainly  go  away  and  of- 
fend him  who  is  there  set  forth  crucified  before  me, 
embitters  all  my  happiness." 

"  December  25. 
"  My  dear  Sister, 

"  I  am  not  very  prone  to  indulge  the  idea  that  my 
happiness  can  depend  on  change  of  place ;  but  when 
such  fancies  do  gain  admittance,  home  is  always  the 
scene  of  my  imaginary  bliss.  It  is,  however,  a  remedy 


EDWARD   PAYSON.  49 

to  consider,  that,  however  we  may  be  separated  from 
our  friends  in  this  world,  3^et,  if  we  choose  them  aright, 
we  may  indulge  the  hope  of  spending  an  eternity  to- 
gether in  the  next. 

"  I  have  of  late  taken  some  pleasure  in  recollecting 
the  pilgrimages  of  our  old  friend  Bunyan,  and  see  a 
striking  propriety  in  many  parts  of  them,  which  I  did 
not  then  rightly  understand.  For  some  time  past  I  have 
been  with  Tender  Conscience  in  the  caves  of  Good 
Ptesolution  and  Contemplation,  and,  like  him,  fell  into 
the  clutches  of  Spiritual  Pride.  It  is  astonishing,  and 
what  nothing  but  sad  experience  could  make  us  be- 
lieve, that  Satan  and  a  corrupt  heart  should  have  the 
art  of  extracting  the  most  dangerous  poison  from  those 
things  which  apparently  v/ould,  and  certainly  ought 
to  have  the  most  beneficial  effects.  If  I  do  not,  after 
all,  fall  into  the  hands  of  old  Carnal  Security,  I  shall 
have  reason  to  be  thankful.  There  is  such  a  fascina- 
tion in  the  magic  circle  of  Avorldly  pleasures  and  pur- 
suits, as  can  hardly  be  conceived  without  experience ; 
and  I  am  astonished  and  vexed  to  find  its  influence 
continually  thwarting  and  hindering  me.  And  so 
many  plausible  excuses  are  perpetually  suggesting 
themselves,  that  compliance  can  hardly  be  avoided." 

"  Ja7iiiary  25. 
"  My  DEAR  Mother, 

"  In  one  of  the  classics,  which  form  part  of  my  daily 
occupation,  there  is  an  account  of  a  tyrant  who  used 
to  torture  his  subjects  by  binding  them  to  dead  bodies, 
and  leaving  them  to  perish  by  an  unnatural  and  pain- 
ful death.  I  have  often  thought  the  situation  of  a 
Christian  is,  in  some  respects,  like  that  of  these  poor 

M.    P.  5 


50  MEMOIR  or 

wretches.  Bound  to  a  loathsome  body  of  sin.  from 
which  death  alone  can  free  him,  and  obliged  daily  to 
experience  efl'ects  from  it  not  much  less  painful  and 
displeasing  to  him  than  a  putrefying  carcass  was  to 
those  who  were  united  to  it,  he  must  suffer  almost 
continual  torment.  I  have  lately  felt  doubtful  how  far 
a  due  resignation  to  the  divine  will  obliges  us  to  sub- 
mit with  patience  to  this  most  painful  of  all  trials, 
and,  since  we  know  that  perfection  is  not  granted  to 
any  in  this  world,  how  tar  we  ought  to  extend  our 
prayers  and  wishes.  I  know  there  is  little  danger  of 
being  too  much  engaged  in  seeking  deliverance  from 
sin  ;  but  is  there  no  danger  of  that  fretful  impatience, 
which  we  are  apt  to  feel  on  other  occasions,  gaining 
admittance  under  the  appearance  of  an  earnest  desire 
for  holiness  ?  And  is  not  indolence,  and  a  wish  to  be 
freed  from  the  necessit}^  of  continual  watchfulness 
and  conflict,  apt  to  insinuate  itself  into  our  desires  and 
petitions  for  divine  assistance  ?  Sin  is  a  sly  traitor ; 
and  it  is  but  lately  I  discovered  it  in  my  bosom  ;  and 
now  I  am  so  much  afraid  of  it,  that  I  hardly  dare  ask 
assistance  at  all. 

••  For  this  month  past.  I  have  enjoyed  verv'  little  of 
that  happiness  which  I  once  rejoiced  in.  Yet,  blessed 
be  God  !  I  am  not  left  utterly  dead  and  stupid,  and 
am  enabled  to  persevere  in  the  use  of  means,  though 
they  seldom  seem  so  productive  of  peace  as  they  once 
did.  I  hope  I  have  clearer  ideas  of  my  strong,  ama- 
zingly strong,  propensity  to  every  thing  that  is  evil, 
and  of  the  infinite  and  glorious  sufficiency  of  my  Sa- 
vior, than  I  had  while  my  joys  were  greater.  Then  I 
was  ready  to  flatter  myself  that  sin  was  destroyed  ; 
but  now  I  findj  by  sad  experience,  it  is  not  only  alive, 


EDWARD    PAY  SON.  51 

but  extremely  active  ;  and  had  I  not  an  Almighty 
Helper,  I  should  instantly  give  up  in  despair." 

'•  Portland,  Feb.  9,  1806. 
''  My  dear  Mother, 

"  For  many  reasons,  it  is  impossible  that  my  letters 
?hould  be  so  acceptable  at  home  as  those  I  receive 
from  home  are  to  me.  You  have  friends  there  to  di- 
vide your  attention,  to  participate  in  your  care,  and  to 
share  and  increase  your  pleasures.  But  I  am  alone. 
All  my  affections  must  centre  at  home,  and,  conse- 
quently, I  must  feel  a  greater  desire  to  hear  from  home, 
and  to  receive  assurances  that  I  am  not  forgotten,  than 
my  friends  can  possibly  have  to  hear  from  me. 

'•  I  find  nobody,  except  at  times,  to  whom  1  can  com- 
municate my  joys,  hopes,  desires,  and  fears ;  nobody 
who  can  participate  my  pleasures  or  sympathize  in 
my  griefs.  It  is  perhaps  best  for  me  that  it  should  be 
so;  but  it  is  ver}-  unpleasant.  Most  of  my  acquaintance 
consider  me,  as  near  as  I  can  guess,  but  a  kind  of  hy- 
pocrite, who  must,  as  a  student  in  divinity,  preserve 
a  decent  exterior  in  order  to  be  respected.  However, 
it  is  some  consolation  that  they  think  the  same  of 
every  one  else.  Their  opinion  is  of  very  trifling  con- 
sequence. One  thing  only  I  wish  not  to  be  thought, 
and  that  is.  what  is  commonly  called  a  rational  Chris- 
tian, an  epithet  which  is  ver\'  frequently  bestowed  on 
young  candidates,  and  which  is  almost  synonymous 
with  no  Christian.  Liberal  divines  are  prett\-  much 
of  the  same  character.-' 

''  Portland,  April  1,  1806. 
"  My  dear  Mother, 
"  I  am  now  entirely  alone,  and.  except  a  visit  once 


52  MEMOIR   OF 

a  fortnight  from  Mr.  R.  I  see  no  face  within  my  cham- 
ber from  one  Aveek  to  another.  It  is  sometimes  un- 
pleasant, but,  I  believe,  very  profitable,  to  be  debarred 
from  society.  I  am  so  prone  to  trust  to  broken  cisterns, 
that  nothing  but  their  being  out  of  my  reach  can  re 
strain  me.  AVhen  I  come  home  from  school,  weary 
and  dull,  if  I  had  any  earthly  friends  at  hand  I  should 
certainly  apply  to  them  for  relief;  but,  not  having 
any,  I  am  constrained  to  go  where  I  am  much  more 
sure  of  finding  ir.  I  begin  to  find,  that  the  smiles  with 
which  my  early  infancy  was  supported,  are  changing 
for  the  less  agreeable,  but  certainly  not  less  needful, 
discipline  of  education  ;  and  O  what  severe  discipline, 
and  how  much  of  it,  shall  I  require !  I  see  already, 
that  hard  fare  and  hard  labor  will  be  necessary  to  pre- 
serve me  from  '  waxing  fat  and  kicking ;'  and  if  it  has 
this  effect,  I  shall  welcome  it  with  pleasure.  It  seems 
to  me  one  of  the  worst  of  the  hellish  offspring  of  fall- 
en nature,  that  it  should  have  such  a  tendency  to  pride, 
and  above  all,  spiritual  pride.  Hoav  many  artifices 
does  it  contrive  to  hide  itself  I  If,  at  any  time,  I  am 
favored  with  clearer  discoveries  of  my  natural  and  ac- 
quired depravity  and  hatefulness  in  the  sight  of  God, 
and  am  enabled  to  mourn  over  it,  in  comes  Spiritual 
Pride,  with — '  Ay,  this  is  something  like  !  this  is  holy 
mourning  for  sin ;  this  is  true  humility.'  If  I  happen 
to  detect  and  spurn  at  these  thoughts,  immediately  he 
changes  his  battery,  and  begins — '  Another  person 
would  have  indulged  those  feelings,  and  imagined  he 
was  really  humble,  but  you  know  better  ;  you  can  de- 
tect and  banish  pride  at  once,  as  you  ought  to  do.' 
Thus  this  hateful  enemy  continually  harasses  me. 
What  a  proof  that  the  heart  is  the  native  soil  of  pride, 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  53 

when  it  thus  contrives  to  gather  strength  from  those 
very  exercises  which  one  would  think  must  destroy  it 
utterly  ! 

"  My  other  chief  besetting  sin,  which  will  cut  out 
abundance  of  work  for  me,  is  fondness  for  applause. 
When  1  sit  down  to  write,  this  demon  is  immediately 
in  the  way,  prompting  to  seek  for  such  observations 
as  will  be  admired,  rather  than  such  as  will  be  felt, 
and  have  a  tendency  to  do  good.  My  proneness  to 
these  two  evils,  which  I  have  mentioned,  makes  me 
think  I  shall  have  but  little  sensible  comfort  in  this 
world,  and  that  I  shall  be  tried  by  many  and  grievous 
afflictions,  in  order  to  keep  me  humble  and  dependent. 
However,  it  is  of  no  consequence.  I  know  my  great 
Physician  is  both  able  and  willing  to  cure  me,  and  I 
leave  the  manner  to  him ;  trusting  he  will  enable  me 
to  take  whatever  he  prescribes,  and  bless  the  pre- 
scription." 

"  Portland^  June  17,  1806. 
"My  dear  Mother, 

"  After  I  have  told  you  that  I  have  been  unwell  some 
time  past,  and  that  I  am  now  as  well  as  usual,  my  stock 
of  information  is  exhausted — imless,  indeed,  I  still  make 
myself  the  subject ;  and,  for  want  of  a  better,  I  must. 
Owing  partly,  I  believe,  to  my  ill  health,  I  have  been 
much  afflicted  with  doubt,  whether  it  is  not  my  duty 
to  give  up  preaching  at  all.  I  want,  at  times,  to  get 
as  far  back  into  the  country  as  possible,  and,  on  a  little 
farm,  lead  a  life  as  much  remote  from  observation  as 
circumstances  will  allow.  It  seems  to  me  a  little  re- 
markable, that,  while  I  am  harassed  with  doubts  and 
perplexities  about  every  thing  else,  I  feel  none,  or  com 

M.  P.  5^ 


54  MKMOIR   OP 

paratively  none,  about  my  own  state.  If  at  any  time 
such  doubts  intrude,  they  are  banished  by  that  text, 
'I  am  he  that  blotteth  out  thy  transgressions,  for  mine 
oxen  sake.^  But,  lately,  the  very  absence  of  doubt  has 
caused  me  to  doubt ;  for  if  I  were  a  child  of  God,  how 
should  I  be  free  from  those  doubts  which  trouble  his 
children  ?  But  the  greatest  difficulty  of  all  is,  that  the 
certainty  which  I  almost  ever  feel  of  my  safety,  should 
have  no  more  effect  on  my  disposition  and  conduct. 
This  seems  to  me  more  unaccountable  than  any  thing 
else ;  for  even  the  devils,  one  would  think,  might  and 
would  rejoice  to  think  of  approaching  happiness. 

"  I  have,  for  some  time,  had  something  like  a  desire 
to  become  a  missionary.  I  have  not  mentioned  it 
before,  because  I  doubted  whether  it  would  not  be 
only  a  temporary  wish.  I  should  feel  less  backward  to 
preach  to  savages,  or  white  men  little  above  savages, 
than  any  where  else.  However,  I  hope  Providence 
will,  some  way  or  other,  get  me  into  the  place  where 
I  shall  be  most  useful,  be  it  what  it  may.  I  do  not 
feel  very  solicitous  in  which  way  or  in  what  situation. 

"  I  shall  be  in  Boston  about  the  23d  of  August,  and, 
after  commencement,  set  out  for  Rindge,  should  no- 
thing prevent.  At  present  I  can  write  no  more.  The 
bearer  is  booted,  whipped,  chaired,  and  waiting. 

"  Present  my  most  affectionate  regards  to  pa\  I 
shall  make  great  encroachments  on  his  time  when  I 
come  home. 

"  Your  affectionate  son, 

"E.  Payson." 

A  desire  to  become  a  missionary,  in  1806,  was  a 
less  dubious  proof  of  expansive  Christian  benevolence 
than  it  would  be  at  the  present  day.     The  obligation 


EDWARD    PAY30N.  55 

of  Christians  to  send  the  Gospel  to  the  heathen  could 
not  have  been  learned  from  any  thing  which  the  Ame- 
rican Church  was  then  doing,  or  had  done  for  a  long 
period.  As  to  any  visible  movement,  she  appeared  as 
indifferent  to  the  claims  of  the  unevangelized  tribes  of 
men,  as  though  her  Redeemer  and  Lord  had  not  left  it 
in  charge  to  "  preach  the  Gospel  to  every  creature." 
Mr.  Payson  was  probably  ignorant  that  another  youth- 
ful bosom  in  the  country  panted  with  the  same  desire  ; 
though  it  Avas  about  this  time,  if  not  in  this  very  year — 
a  coincidence  which  they  who  regard  the  works  of  the 
Lord,  and  the  operation  of  his  hands,  will  notice  with 
pleasure — that  Samuel  J.  Mills  felt  the  desire,  and 
formed  the  purpose,  to  devote  his  life  to  the  service  of 
Christ  among  the  heathen — a  purpose,  however,  which 
was  known,  first  to  his  mother,  and  then  to  a  few  indi- 
viduals only,  till  about  four  years  afterwards. 

In  the  extracts  which  have  been  inserted  from  his 
letters,  the  reader  has  discovered  his  intimate  acquaint- 
ance with  the  subtle  workings  of  the  human  heart,  and 
his  unsleeping  vigilance  to  detect  and  guard  against  its 
impositions.  His  self-knowledge,  and  the  rigid  self- 
inspection  which  he  habitually  maintained,  would  ap- 
pear in  a  still  more  striking  light  from  his  private  dia- 
ry, if  that  were  spread  before  the  public  eye.  Neither 
friends  nor  foes  could  name  a  fault  in  him,  which  he 
had  not  detected,  and  condemned  in  terms  of  unspar- 
ing severity.  They  would  find  their  severest  judg- 
ments anticipated  ;  and  they  would  find  too — what  the 
world  little  suspects  of  the  Christian — that  the  small- 
est trespasses  were  the  cause  of  heart-felt  lamentation 
and  grief  in  those  hours  of  secret  retirement,  when  no 
eye  but  Jehovah's  was  witness  to  his  sorrow.     In  his 


i66  MEMOIR    OF 

example,  the  young  aspirant  for  fame  might  see  an  il- 
lustration of  the  wise  man's  maxim,  "before  honor  is 
humility  ;"  and  that  the  surest  path  to  an  enduring 
reputation  is  found  by  "asking  counsel  of  God,"  and 
"  acknowledging  him  in  all  our  ways."  Faithfulness, 
either  to  the  dead  or  the  living,  cannot,  however,  re- 
quire that  a  very  free  use  should  be  made  of  the  record 
of  what  passed  in  the  inward  sanctuary  of  his  soul — a 
record  obviously  designed  for  his  private  use  only,  and 
''n  characters  intended  to  be  illegible  by  every  eye  ex- 
cept his  own.  So  much  will,  nevertheless,  be  insert- 
ed as  is  necessary  to  substantiate  the  representations 
in  this  narrative,  or  disclose  important  facts  in  his  his- 
tory, which  could  be  learned  from  no  other  source. 

Extracts  from  liis  Diiary. 

'■^  Feb.  5,  1806.  For  this  fortnight  past  I  have  en- 
joyed a  tolerable  share  of  assistance,  but  nothing  trans- 
porting.    Slow  progress. 

"  Feb.  7.  Little  opportunity  for  prayer  in  the  morn- 
ing ;  yet  God  was  pleased  not  Avholly  to  desert  me 
during  the  day,  and,  in  the  evening,  favored  me  with 
clearer  views  of  the  glorious  all-suflficiency  of  my  Sa- 
vior, and  of  my  absolute  need  of  him,  than  I  have  be- 
fore experienced.  I  could,  in  some  measure,  feel  that 
my  deepest  humiliation  was  rank  pride,  and  all  that  I 
am  or  can  do  is  sin.  Yet,  blessed  be  God,  I  can  plead 
the  sufferings  and  perfect  obedience  of  Jesus  Christ,  in 
whom,  though  weak  in  myself,  I  am  strong. 

"  Feb.  8.  There  is  no  vice,  of  which  I  do  not  see 
the  seeds  in  myself,  and  which  would  bear  fruit,  did 
not  grace  prevent.  Notwithstanding  this,  I  am  per- 
petually pulling  the  mote  out  of  my  brother's  eye. 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  57 

"  Feb.  9.  Was  much  favored  in  prayer,  and  still 
more  in  reading  the  Bible.  Every  word  seemed  to 
come  home  with  power.  Of  late,  I  have  none  of  those 
rapturous  feelings  which  used  to  be  so  transporting  ; 
but  I  enjoy  a  more  calm  and  equable  degree  of  com- 
fort ;  and,  though  slowly,  yet  surely,  find  myself  ad- 
vancing. 

'■^Feb.W.  Avery  dull  day — almost  discouraged; 
yet  I  hope  the  experience  I  gain  of  my  utter  inability 
to  think  so  much  as  a  good  thought,  will  have  a  ten- 
dency to  mortify  pride. 

"  Feb.  15.  Felt  some  liveliness  in  morning  prayer, 
and  some  aspirations  after  greater  measures  of  holi- 
ness. Resolved  to  observe  this  as  a  day  of  fasting  and 
prayer.  After  seeking  divine  assistance,  reflecting  en 
the  innumerable  sins  of  which  my  life  has  been  full, 
and  on  the  great  aggravations  that  enhance  my  guilt, 
I  attempted,  I  hope  sincerely,  to  give  myself  and  all 
I  possess  to  God,  in  the  renewal  of  my  covenant  en- 
gagements. 

"  Feb.  16.  Very  dull  and  lifeless  in  the  morning. 
Made  a  resolution  to  restrain  my  temper,  and  the  next 
moment  broke  it.  Felt  more  lively  at  meeting.  In  the 
afternoon  and  evening  was  remarkably  favored.  I  felt 
such  an  overwhelming  sense  of  God's  amazing  good- 
ness and  my  own  unworthiness  as  I  never  had  before. 
It  gave  me  a  most  earnest  desire  to  spend  and  be  spent 
in  the  service  of  God,  in  any  Avay  he  should  please  to 
employ  me. 

"  Feb.  17.  In  the  morning,  felt  strong  ill  the  Lord, 
and  in  the  power  of  his  might ;  thought  I  could  stand 
all  enemies,  but  soon  was  as  lifeless  as  ever.  When 
shall  I  learn  that  all  my  sufficiency  is  of  Grod  ! 


58  MEMOIR   OP 

"  Feh.  19.  What  a  poor,  weak,  unstable  creature 
I  am,  when  Christ  is  absent !  Read  Baxter's  Saints' 
Rest ;  but,  though  it  is  very  affectingly  written,  I  was 
totally  unmoved  by  it. 

"  Feb.  22.  This  is  a  day  to  be  remembered.  I  de- 
termined to  spend  it  in  fasting  and  prayer,  but  was 
prevented.     In  the  afternoon  received  an  invitation  to 

•spend  the  evening  with , ,  &c.  but,  thanks  to 

divine  goodness,  was  enabled  to  decline  it.  I  tasted 
much  sweetness  in  the  former  part  of  the  evening;  but 
in  the  latter  part  I  was  favored  with  such  displays  of 
divine  goodness  as  almost  forced  me  to  exclaim.  Lord, 
stay  thine  hand  ! 

"  Feb.  23.  Was  again  favored  with  the  divine  pre- 
sence. I  have  some  expectation  of  a  heavy  stroke  im- 
pending.    If  it  is  so,  God's  will  be  done. 

"  Feb.  24.  A  great  falling  off  from  the  enjoyments 
and  life  of  yesterday;  yet,  blessed  be  God,  I  am  not 
wholly  deserted.  I  was  much  favored  in  speaking  to 
the  scholars,  and  they  seemed  rather  more  affected 
than  common.  But  I  have  suffered  much  to-day  from 
the  attacks  of  spiritual  pride.  This,  I  already  see,  will 
be  the  enemy  against  which  my  efforts  must  be  direct- 
ed, and  which  will  cost  me  most  conflicts.  But  I  trust 
in  an  almighty  arm.  , 

"  Feb.  26.  I  drag  along  without  advancing.  O,  how 
disproportionate  are  my  endeavors  to  the  mighty  prize 
for  which  I  contend  ! 

"  Feb.  28.  Resolved  to  spend  this  day  in  fasting 
and  prayer.'  Did  so,  but  found  no  relief  Was  asto- 
nishingly dead  and  wandering.  In  reading  Mr.  Brain- 
erd's  life,  I  seemed  to  feel  a  most  ardent  desire  after 
some  portion  of  his  spirit ;  but,  Avhen  I  attempted  to 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  59 

pray,  it  vanished.     I  could  not  even  mourn  over  my 
coldness. 

"  March  3.  In  the  evening,  partly  by  my  own 
fault,  and  partly  by  accident,  got  entangled  in  vain 
company.  Afterwards  was  in  most  exquisite  distress 
of  mind.  Had  a  clearer  view  of  my  own  sinfulness 
and  vileness  than  ever. 

"  March  4.  I  seem  rather  to  go  back  than  to  ad- 
vance. What  a  display  of  divine  power,  to  make  a 
saint  of  such  a  wretch  as  I ! 

"  March  6.  My  time  flies  like  a  vapor,  and  nothing 
is  done.     When  shall  I  begin  to  live  for  God  ! 

"  March  8.  I  cannot  accuse  myself  of  indulging 
in  any  known  sin,  or  neglecting  any  known  duty ;  bui 
I  am  so  lifeless,  so  little  engaged  in  religious  things, 
that  I  seem  to  believe  as  though  I  believed  not. 

"  March  10.  Found  considerable  freedom  in  prayer. 
Was  too  passionate  in  a  dispute  about  a  theatre.  Had 
little  freedom  in  speaking  to  the  scholars.  Was  en- 
abled to  be  diligent  in  filling  up  my  time.  Was  as- 
sisted in  my  studies. 

"  March  12.  I  act  as  if  eternal  things  were  a  dream. 
When  shall  I  be  wise  ! 

'''•March  13.  Favored  with  great  liberty  in  prayer. 
Was  enabled  to  pray  for  others  more  than  usual. 

^^  March  17.  Thanks  to  divine  goodness,  this  has 
been  a  good  day  to  me.  Was  favored  with  considera- 
ble freedom  in  the  morning,  and  rejoiced  in  the  Lord 
through  the  day ;  but  in  the  evening  felt  an  unusual 
degree  of  assistance  both  in  prayer  and  study.    Since 

I  BEGAN  TO  BEG  God's  BLESSING  ON  MY  STUDIES,  I  HAVE 
DONE  MORE  IN  ONE  WEEK  THAN  IN  THE  WHOLE  YEAR  BE- 
FORE. Surely,  it  is  good  to  dravr  near  to  God  at  all 
times. 


60  MEMOIR  OP 

"  March  i9.  Less  freedom  ia  prayer  than  usual.  In 
the  evening,  was  betrayed  into  folly,  if  not  into  sin. 
Could  neither  write  nor  read  with  any  profit.  What  a 
miserable  creature  am  I  when  Jesus  withdraws  his  as- 
sistance !  Was  very  positive  in  a  trifle,  and  was  justly 
punished  by  finding  myself  in  the  wrong.  Hope  it  will 
prove  a  profitable  lesson  to  me. 

^'  March  23.  Am  much  exercised  respecting  apply- 
ing for  license  to  preach,  and  afraid  I  am  under  the  in- 
fluence of  improper  motives  ;  but  I  trust  my  Guide  will 
direct  me. 

"  March  28.  Read  Pike's  Saving  Faith ;  and,  though 
at  first  I  was  somewhat  alarmed  with  fears  that  I  had 
it  not,  yet,  blessed  be  God,  my  fears  and  doubts  were 
soon  removed.  I  was  enabled  to  appeal  to  God  for  a 
witness  of  what  he  has  done  for  me.  I  know  that  I 
love  my  Savior;  and,  though  my  love  is  infinitely 
short  of  his  merits,  I  trust  He  who  gave  it  me  can  and 
will  increase  it.  I  am  sinfid,  but  He  died  for  sinners. 
Felt  unusual  fervency  and  sweetness  in  prayer  and 
reading  the  Scriptures,  and  was  encouraged  to  go  on, 
striving  for  more  holiness. 

"  March  29.  Renewed  my  covenant  with  God. 
Asked  assistance  to  do  it  with  sincerity.  My  prayer 
was  answered  in  an  unusual  degree.  I  had  a  clearer 
vieAv  of  my  own  vileness  and  depravity,  and  a  more 
distinct  and  satisfying  perception  of  Christ's  all-suffi- 
ciency and  goodness,  by  far,  than  I  ever  enjoyed  be- 
fore ;  so  that  I  was  ready  to  think  I  had  never  known 
any  thing  of  the  matter.  Was  enabled  to  say,  Abba, 
Father!  in  the  true  spirit  of  adoption,  and  to  exercise 
strong  faith  in  Christ,  and  love  to  him. 

''  March  30.  Had  more  comfort  in  ordinances  than 


EDWARD   PAYSON.  61 

ever  before.  I  was  almost  ready  to  think  this  the  pe- 
riod of  my  conversion.  The  transport  I  felt  was  more 
rational  and  penetrating  than  I  ever  before  experienced. 
It  arose  from  an  apprehension  of  the  perfect  sufficiency 
of  Christ  in  all  his  offices,  and  from  a  clear  discovery 
of  God  as  my  Father,  so  that  I  was  enabled  to  trust, 
rejoice,  and  exult  in  him. 

"  April  2.  Was  enabled  in  some  measure  to  guard 
against  a  peevish,  impatient  disposition.  In  the  even- 
ing, unusually  lively  and  fervent  in  prayer. 

"  April  5.  Was  very  much  harassed  with  wander 
ing  thoughts  this  morning.  Sought  to  Christ  for  deli- 
verance, and  found  it Have  fresh  reason  to  think 

visiting  is  detrimental.  In  the  evening  was  exceed- 
ingly depressed  with  a  sense  of  my  vileness.  I  wished 
to  shrink  from  society  and  observation.  Could  hardly 
think  of  attempting  to  preach.  Threw  myself  at  the 
feet  of  my  blessed  Savior,  and  poured  forth  my  sorrows 
and  complaints  before  him.  Yet  I  suspect  there  was 
more  of  self  than  any  other  principle  in  my  tears. 

"  April  8.  Was  much  exercised  to-day,  on  the  sub- 
ject of  election,  and  other  truths  connected  with  it. 
Have  been  much  in  doubt  respecting  offering  myself 
for  examination  next  month.  Fear  I  am  not  under  the 
influence  of  proper  motives. 

"  April  13.  Sabbath.  Felt  the  love  of  God  sweetly 
shed  abroad  in  my  heart.  Continued  in  this  frame  all 
the  morning.  Derived  much  more  advantage  from  or- 
dinances than  usual,  especially  from  the  sacrament. 
A  profitable  day. 

"  April  20.  Had  some  sense  of  my  miserable  state, 
but  little  fervency  in  seeking  relief.  Suspect  the  weath- 
er and  my  health  have  some  influence  on  me.    In  the 

.M.  p.  6 


62  MEMOIR    OF 

evening  had  more  fervency,  but  not  more  sensible  as- 
sistance. Was,  however,  resigned  to  my  Master's  will, 
and  enabled  to  trust  in  him. 

"  April  26.  Was  much  favored  in  my  approaches  to 
the  throne  of  grace  to-day. 

"  May  1.  Rose  early,  and  had  some  life  and  comfort. 
Have  been  so  much  engaged  in  preparing  my  sermon 
for  examination,  that  my  mind  has  been  much  taken  ofi 
from  religion.  I  find  writing  sermons  is  not  praying. 

"  May  4.  It  is  now  long  since  I  have  enjoyed  any 
of  those  sweet  seasons  of  communion  wi'.h  God  which 
used  to  be  my  chief  happiness.  I  fear  I  have  neglected 
the  Scriptures  too  much.  Am  determined  to  pay  more 
attention  to  them. 

"  May  13.  This  was  the  day  in  which  I  intended  to 
be  examined  before  the  Association,  but  it  pleased  Pro- 
vidence to  prevent.  In  the  evening  reflected  on  my  latp 
coldness  and  backwardness  in  religion,  and  resolved, 
by  the  help  of  divine  grace,  to  run  with  more  alacrity 
the  race  set  before  me. 

"  May  18.  I  think  I  never  was  so  favored  in  prayer 
for  so  long  a  period  in  my  life.  At  meeting,  tolerably 
lively.  In  the  intermission,  and  after  meeting,  was  en- 
abled to  spend  the  time  profitably,  so  that  I  never  was 
favored  with  a  more  profitable  Sabbath. 

"May  19.  Enjoyed  considerable  fervor  in  the  morn- 
ing, and  some  life  in  speaking  to  my  scholars.  En- 
gaged in  a  dispute  at  breakfast,  and  foolishly  became 
angry.  Retired  and  prayed  for  him  with  whom  I  was 
angry,  and  for  myself.  Was  enabled,  in  a  considerable 
degree,  to  conquer  my  anger  in  this  matter. 

"  May  20.  Find  some  remains  of  anger,  notwith 
standing  all  my  endeavors  to  suppress  it. 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  63 

"  May  22.  Since  I  began,  in  pursuance  of  my  de- 
sign, to  read  the  Scriptures,  I  have  enjoyed  more  of 
the  divine  presence  than  before. 

"  May  23.  Was  favored  in  prayer.  Was  applied  to 
by  the  selectmen  to  deliver  an  oration  on  the  4th  ot 
July.  Refused  at  first ;  but,  being  persuaded  to  consider 
of  it,  pride  and  vanity  prevailed,  and  I  foolishly  com- 
plied.— Mem.  Never  to  consider,  when  I  have  a  pre- 
sentiment, at  first,  what  I  ought  to  do. 

"  Sabbath,  June  1.  Communion.  Enjoyed  much  ot 
the  divine  presence  and  assistance  in  prayer  and  me- 
ditation. Have  never  had  a  more  profitable  morning 
Found  my  Savior  in  his  ordinances.  Hope  I  have 
found  this  a  good  day.  Seemed  to  feel  more  property 
in  Christ  and  his  benefits  than  I  had  ever  done  before. 
After  meeting  was  filled  with  the  blessed  consolations 
of  the  Spirit.  O,  how  refreshing  are  those  foretastes  of 
heaven  !  How  ravishing  the  presence  of  Jesus !  Felt 
a  full  assurance  of  my  interest  in  the  blessings  pur- 
chased by  Christ.  No  doubts  obscured  the  sunshine  of 
my  mind.    God  be  praised. 

"  June  9.  Resolved  to  spend  all  the  time  before 
six  in  religious  exercises.  Enjoyed  some  comfort  in 
prayer. 

"  June  15.  Sabbath.  Never  felt  such  strong  and  live- 
ly faith  in  prayer  as-  this  morning.  It  seemed  as  if  I  had 
nothing  to  do  but  to  take  whatever  I  pleased. 

"  June  17.  Was  much  harassed  with  wandering 
thoughts  in  morning  prayer.  Was  much  assisted  in 
my  studies. 

"  June  28.  Felt  myself  exceedingly  vile.  Found  no 
comfort  in  the  exercises  of  public  worship.  My  oration 
is  a  snare  to  me.    O,  what  an  astonishing,  bewitching 


64  MEMOIR   OP 

power  a  thirst  for  applause  has  over  my  mind  !  I  know 
it  is  of  no  consequence  what  mankind  think  of  me,  and 
yet  I  am  continually  seeking  their  approbation. 

"  June  29.  Sabbath.  Rose  early,  and  was  favored 
with  the  presence  and  assistance  of  the  blessed  Spirit 
in  prayer.  O,  how  sweet  and  refreshing  it  is  to  pour  out 
our  souls  before  God  !  O,  the  wonderful  and  unmerited 
goodness  of  God,  in  keeping  me  from  openly  disgrac- 
ing my  profession  !  If  he  had  left  me  one  moment  to 
myself,  I  had  been  ruined.  Next  Sabbath  is  the  com- 
munion. God  grant  that  it  may  be  a  refreshing  season 
to  me,  and  many  others. 

"  July  2.  Still  harassed  and  perplexed  about  my  ora- 
tion. Could  not  have  believed  that  the  desire  of  ap- 
plause had  gained  such  power  over  me. 

"  July  4.  Was  enabled  to  ask  for  assistance  to  per- 
form the  services  of  the  day.  In  the  evening,  felt  in 
a  most  sweet,  humble,  thankful  frame.  How  shall  I 
praise  the  Lord  for  all  his  goodness  ! 

"  July  5.  Felt  much  of  the  same  temper  I  experi- 
enced yesterday.  In  the  evening  was  favored  with 
much  of  the  divine  presence  and  blessing  in  prayer, — 
Mem.    Applause  cannot  confer  happiness. 

"  July  6.  Sabbath.  My  infinitely  gracious  God  is 
still  present,  to  make  his  goodness  pass  before  me.  He 
has  been  with  me  this  morning  in  prayer,  and  enabled 
me  sweetly  to  say.  My  Father^  my  God.  At  the  Lord's 
supper  my  gracious  Savior  favored  me  with  some  to- 
kens of  his  presence.  0  that  I  could  find  words  to  ex- 
press half  his  goodness,  or  my  own  vileness  !  I  hope 
my  faith  received  some  increase.  But  what  I  desire  to 
praise  my  God  for,  is  his  wonderful  goodness  in  assist- 
ing me  against  pride. 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  65 

"  July  7.  Still  favored  with  the  smiles  of  my  blessed 
Lord.  Surely  his  loving-kindness  is  better  than  life. 
How  condescendingly  kind  !  I  hope  he  is  teaching  me 
the  value  of  worldly  applause,  and  how  incompetent  it 
is  to  afford  happiness.  I  have  had  enough  to  satisfy  me, 
if  there  were  any  satisfaction  in  it.  But  happiness  is 
to  be  found  in  God  alone. 

"  July  18.  Very  little  comfort  in  prayer.  Have  fallen 
into  a  sad,  lifeless  state  the  week  past.  Hope  it  will 
convince  me  more  strongly  than  ever  of  my  weakness 
and  vileness.     Sat  up  till  2  o'clock  at  night,  talking 

with  Mr. on  religious  topics.    Found  he 

had  more  to  say  in  defence  of  Unitarianism  than  I 
could  have  supposed. 

"  July  24.  No  life  at  all.  O  that  it  were  w4th  me 
as  in  months  past ! — In  the  evening  was  favored  with 
more  of  the  divine  presence  than  I  have  enjoyed  this 
fortnight.  ^ 

"  July  25.  Spent  the  day,  according  to  previous  re- 
solution, in  fasting  and  prayer.  "Was  favored  with 
much  of  the  divine  presence  and  blessing,  so  that  it 
was  a  comfortable  and  profitable  day  to  me.  Called  to 
mind  the  events  of  my  past  life,  the  mercies  I  have  re- 
ceived, and  the  ill  returns  I  have  made  for  them.  Felt 
a  deep  sense  of  my  own  unworthiness,  and  the  unme- 
rited goodness  of  God. 

"  July  27.  Was  alarmed  with  respect  to  my  state, 
by  reading  Edwards  on  the  Affections  ;  but  obtained 
comfort  and  assurance  by  prayer. 

"  Aug.  2.  Was  much  engaged  in  prayer,  and  thought 
I  was  humbled  under  a  sense  of  sin.  Was  enabled  to 
plead  with  some  earnestness  for  spiritual  blessings. 
But  afterwards,  reading  an  account  of  the  conversion 

M.  p.  6* 


66  MEMOIR   OF 

of  some  persons,  I  was  led  to  doubt  whether  I  had  evei 
known  what  it  meant,  and  was  much  distressed. 

"  Aug.  3.  Was  again  disturbed  with  apprehensions 
that  I  knew  nothing  of  religion  ;  but,  though  I  could 
not  come  to  Christ  as  one  of  his  members,  I  threw 
myself  down  before  him,  as  a  sinner  who  needed  his 
mediation,  and  my  doubts  vanished. 

"  Aug.  4.  Rose  with  the  impression  that  all  I  had 
formerly  experienced  was  a  delusion,  and  that  I  was 
still  an  enemy  to  God.  Was  enabled  to  go  to  Jesus, 
and  plead  earnestly  for  mercy,  not  for  my  own  sake, 
but  for  his.  I  seemed  determined,  if  I  must  perish,  to 
perish  at  his  feet ;  but  perhaps  I  was  deceived.  How- 
ever, my  hopes  began  to  revive.  In  the  evening  fool- 
ishly went  into  company,  and  had  no  time  for  prayer. 

"  Aug.  16.  Seemed  to  be  something  more  alive  to 
divine  things  this  morning.  Found  some  sweetness 
in  prayer  and  reading  the  Scriptures.  In  the  evening, 
was  much  assisted  in  preparation  for  the  communion 
to-morrow." 


CHAPTER  IV. 


Retires  to  Rindge,  and  devotes  himself  exclusively  to  his  pre* 
paralion  for  the  ministry. 

In  the  month  of  August,  1806,  Mr.  Payson  relin- 
quished his  charge  of  the  Academy  in  Portland  ;  and, 
"  after  settling  his  business,  went  on  board  a  packet  for 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  67 

Boston,"  in  which  he  remained  several  days,  "  tossed 
about  by  contrary  winds,  and  wounded  by  the  oaths 
and  blasphemies  of  the  wretches  on  board."  He  has 
described  "a  set"  of  his  fellow-passengers  by  two 
words,  indicative  of  all  that  is  revolting  to  modesty 
and  pious  feeling,  and  suited  to  "vex  the  righteous 
soul ;"  the  bare  mention  of  Avhich  would  cause  others 
to  join  him  in  the  exclamation — "  How  dreadful  to 
spend  an  eternity  among  such  wretches  !"  On  the  fifth 
day  from  his  embarkation  the  vessel  "  arrived  in  Bos- 
ton in  a  violent  gale  of  wind,  attended  Avith  some  dan- 
ger." He  tarried  in  the  neighborhood  till  after  com- 
mencement, and,  notwithstanding  the  "  noise  and  con- 
fusion, found  more  pleasure  than  he  had  expected  in 
meeting  his  classmates."  On  his  way  from  Cambridge 
to  Rindge,  he  rode  as  far  as  Groton  ;  but  whether  the 
stage  rested  there  over  night,  or  took  a  difiierent  route, 
and  his  desire  to  tread  again  the  threshold  of  his  be- 
loved home  alone  urged  him  forward — so  it  was,  that 
he  left  the  stage,  and  "  walked  home  from  Groton  af- 
ter six"  in  the  evening,  and  was  at  his  journey's  end 
"  about  four  the  next  morning,"  ready  to  "  receive  the 
congratulations  of  his  friends."  His  father's  house 
continued,  from  this  time,  to  be  his  hallowed  and  cho- 
sen retirement,  till  he  entered  on  the  active  duties  of 
the  ministry. 

"Wisdom's  self 
"  Oft  seeks  to  sweet  retired  solitude ; 
"  Where,  with  her  best  nurse,  Contemplation, 
"  She  plumes  her  feathers,  and  lets  grow  her  wings." 

This  step,  considered  in  all  its  aspects,  may  justly 
be  regarded  as  one  of  the  most  important  in  Mr.  Pay- 
son's  life,  and  reflects  the  highest  honor  on  his  judg- 


68  MEMOIR    OF 

ment  and  good  sense.  Four  months  previously  to  thii 
time,  as  has  been  seen  in  the  preceding  pages,  he  seri- 
ously contemplated  making  application  for  license  to 
preach  the  Gospel.  Whatever  were  the  caus3  that  pre- 
vented him,  a  gracious  Providence  is  visible  in  it ;  not 
that  he  was  particularly  deficient  in  sacred  learning ; 
on  the  contrary,  his  theological  knowledge  was  pro- 
bably equal  to  that  of  most  "  candidates."  Among  the 
works  which  he  is  known  to  have  read  with  care, 
might  be  named  Watson's  Tracts,  Witsius,  Stack- 
house,  Jonathan  Edwards,  besides  many  works  of  de- 
votion and  practical  divinity.  Abstracts  of  several 
other  treatises  still  exist  in  his  hand-writing,  which 
were  made  before  he  left  Portland ;  also  a  collection 
of  "  Thoughts  on  the  Composition  and  Delivery  of 
Sermons."  Still,  during  all  this  time,  he  was  invested 
with  a  public  trust  of  no  light  responsibility.  His 
school  must  have  mainly  engrossed  his  time,  his 
thoughts,  and  his  cares.  To  suppose  that  his  pro- 
fessional studies  were  allowed  more  than  a  secondary 
claim  to  his  attention,  were  to  suppose  him  unfaithful 
to  an  important  charge,  which  he  had  voluntarily  as- 
sumed. And  though  he  could  hardly  have  been  other 
than  a  distinguished  preacher,  even  had  he  entered  on 
the  sacred  office  without  further  preparation,  yet  he 
would  not  have  been  the  minister  he  afterwards  was. 
This  season  of  retirement  has  an  intimate  connection 
with  his  subsequent  eminence  and  usefulness.  To  the 
occupations  of  these  days  of  seclusion  from  the  world, 
more  than  to  any  other  means,  may  be  traced  his  gi- 
gantic "  growth  in  the  knowledge  of  God,"  and  that  ex- 
traordinary unction  which  attended  his  performance  of 
official  duties. 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  69 

This  period  of  his  history  's  memorable,  and  highly 
instructive  to  the  student  of  theology.  Having,  after 
much  deliberation  and  prayer,  chosen  the  ministry  of 
reconciliation  as  the  business  of  his  future  life,  he  gave 
himself  up  to  the  work  of  preparation  with  an  exclu- 
siveness  and  ardor  perhaps  never  exceeded.  From 
every  study  and  pursuit,  whatever  its  charms  and  at- 
tractions, which  was  not  directly  subsidiary  to  his  grand 
design,  he  resolutely  divorced  himself— at  least  till  he 
had  acquired  the  art — analogous  to  the  supposed  pro- 
perties of  the  philosopher's  stone — "  of  turning  all  to 
gold."  He  seems  to  have  concentrated  and  directed  all 
his  powers  to  the  acquisition  of  scriptural  knowledge, 
and  the  cultivation  of  Christian  and  ministerial  graces, 
in  obedience  to  the  apostolical  precept,  "give  thyself 
wholly  to  them."  A  decision,  once  formed,  was  with  him 
usually  final ;  and,  in  executing  his  purpose,  "  whatever 
his  hand  found  to  do,  he  did  it  with  his  might."  These, 
his  permanent  characteristics,  were  eminently  conspi- 
cuous at  this  period,  while  learning  to 

"  Negotiate  between  God  and  man, 
"  As  God's  ambassador,  the  grand  concerns 
"  Of  judgment  and  of  mercy." 

With  the  most  exalted  views  of  the  holy  office  to  which 
he  was  looking  forward,  and  of  the  qualifications  requi- 
site to  its  competent  and  successful  execution,  he  sought 
them  with  a  proportionate  zeal,  devoting  himself  to  tha 
study  of  the  sacred  pages,  if  man  ever  did,  "  with  all 
the  heart,  and  soul,  and  strength,  and  mind." 

Systems  of  divinity,  as  drawn  up  by  men,  Mr.  Pay- 
son  seems  always  to  have  regarded  as  subordinate  to 
the  word  of  God.  It  was  not  his  habit  to  decry  them  as 
useless  ;  but  he  regarded  them  with  a  watchful  jealou- 


70  MEMOIR   OF 

sy,  and  felt  it  unsafe  to  trust  to  them,  as  his  practice 
evidently  demonstrates.  He  found  "  a  more  excellent 
way  "  to  the  knowledge  of  his  Master's  will,  by  con- 
sulting directly  "the  law  and  the  testimony."  Thus 
to  honor  the  "  lively  oracles"  is  the  wisest  and  safest 
course  for  every  man  ;  for  to  embrace  a  system,  with  the 
intention  of  retaining  or  rejecting  it,  either  wholly  or 
in  part,  as  it  shall  afterwards  be  found  to  agree,  or  not, 
with  Scripture,  is  to  incur  the  hazard  of  perpetuating 
error — since  a  man's  theory  is  more  likely  to  modify 
his  views  of  the  Scriptures,  than  the  Scriptures  are  to 
correct  the  mistakes  of  his  theory.  This  every  one  may 
have  observed  in  regard  to  those  whose  sentiments  dif- 
fer from  his  own.  Before  this  time,  indeed,  the  works 
of  the  most  eminent  divines  of  our  own  and  other  coun- 
tries, which  were  then  accessible,  and  which  he  is 
known  to  have  read,  had  doubtless  exerted  some  influ- 
ence in  forming  his  religious  opinions;  but  he  w^as  ob- 
viously wedded  to  none.  To  none  did  he  feel  the  attach- 
ment of  a  partisan ;  he  had  not  arrived  to  that  state  of 
mind  which  made  him  feel  interested  to  defend  an  opi- 
nion because  any  human  master  had  said  it.  The  pol- 
luting and  disorganizing  tendency  of  loose  opinions  on 
the  one  hand,  and  the  scarcely  less  deplorable  effects 
of  dogmatism  on  the  other,  which  could  not  have  es- 
caped his  observation,  not  less  than  the  spirit  of  reli- 
gion and  his  constitutional  independence  of  mind,  con- 
spired to  lead  him  to  a  just  estimate  of  the  value  of  hu- 
man authority  in  matters  of  religious  belief,  and  to  con 
summate  his  reverence  for  the  "  sure  word  of  prophecy," 
and  his  confidence  in  revelation,  as  an  adequate  foun 
dation  for  his  faith,  and  an  infallible  guide  in  duty. 
"  Here  is  firm  footing — all  is  sea  besides." 


EDWARD  PAYSON.  71 

Most  men,  however  discordant  their  principles,  pro- 
fess to  have  derived  them  from  the  Scriptures  ;  but, 
with  Mr.  P.  this  was  something  more  than  pretence. 
The  Bible  was  Avith  him  the  subject  of  close,  critical, 
persevering,  and,  for  a  time,  almost  exclusive  atten- 
tion, his  reading  being  principally  confined  to  such 
writings  as  would  assist  in  its  elucidation,  and  unfold 
its  literal  meaning.  In  this  manner  he  studied  the 
whole  of  the  Inspired  Volume^  from  beginning  to 
end,  so  that  there  was  not  a  verse  on  which  he  had 
not  formed  an  opinion.  This  is  not  asserted  at  ran- 
dom. It  is  but  a  fev/  years  since,  that,  in  conversa- 
tion with  a  candidate  for  the  ministry,  he  earnestly 
recommended  very  particular  and  daily  attention  to 
the  study  of  the  Scriptures,  and  enforced  his  counsel 
by  his  own  experience  of  the  advantages  which  would 
accrue  from  the  practice.  He  observed,  that  before  he 
commenced  preaching,  he  made  it  his  great  object  to 
know  what  the  Bible  taught  on  every  subject,  and, 
with  this  purpose,  investigated  every  sentence  in  it 
so  far  as  to  be  able  "  to  give  an  answer  to  every  man 
who  should  ask  a  reason  for  it."* 

'  It  is  not  here  alledged  that  Dr.  Payson  comprehended  all 
tluitis  contained  in  the  Scriptures,  much  less  that  he  arrogated 
to  himself  such  knowledge;  for,  though  "the  word  of  Christ 
dwelt  richly"  in  him,  he  doubtless  continued  to  "  increase  iu 
the  knowledge  of  God  "  by  every  perusal  of  it,  how  often  so- 
ever repeated,  till  the  last,  and  even  then  saw  as  through  a 
glass,  darkly,  compared  with  the  visions  of  heaven.  Some 
truths  cannot  be  fully  comprehended,  and  may  have  various 
relations  which  never  will  be  known  on  earth.  Many  things 
respecting  unfulfilled  predictions  can  be  known  by  no  man  till 
after  their  accomplishment.  But  he  haJ  made  every  passage  a 
distinct  object  of  attention,  and,  if  "  hard  to  be  understood^' * 


72  MEMOIR  6r 

In  this  way  he  acquired  his  unparalleled  readiness 
to  meet  every  question,  on  every  o:;casion,  whether 
proposed  by  a  caviller  or  a  conscientious  inquirer, 
which,  it  is  well  known,  he  usually  did  in  a  manner 
as  satisfactory  as  it  often  was  unexpected.  The  ad- 
vantages hence  derived  were,  in  his  view,  beyond  all 
computation.  It  secured  for  him  the  unlimited  confi- 
dence of  people  in  the  common  walks  of  life,  as  "  a 
man  mighty  in  the  Scriptures."  It  gavo  him  great 
influence  with  Christians  of  other  denominations.  It 
enabled  him  to  confound  and  silence  gainsayers,  when 
they  could  not  be  convinced,  as  well  as  to  build  up  the 
elect  of  God  on  their  most  holy  faith.  It  furnished 
him,  too,  with  ten  thousand  forms  of  illustration,  or 
modes  of  conveying  to  ordinary  minds  the  less  obvi- 
ous truths  with  which  he  was  conversant  in  the  ex- 
ercise of  his  ministry.  He  believed  "  all  Scripture 
to  be  given  by  inspiration  of  God,  and  profitable  for 
doctrine,  for  reproof,  for  correction,  and  for  instruction 
in  righteousness  5"  and  he  was  himself  a  most  striking 
exemplification  of  its  competency  to  render  "  the  man 
of  God  perfect,  thoroughly  furnished  unto  every  good 
work." 

Of  Mr.  Payson's  devotion  to  the  Scriptures  there  is 
evidence  of  a  different  nature  from  that  which  has  just 
been  given.  Among  his  papers  has  been  found  a  small 
manuscript  volume,  containing  "  Notes"  on  most  ot 
the  books  of  Scripture.  It  is  among  the  few  interest- 
ing relics  of  this  period  of  his  life.     The  manuscript 

he  could  state  to  the  inquirer  the  causes  of  the  obscuritj',  and 
in  the  very  fact  find  a  powerful  motive  to  humility,  diligence, 
and  prayer  for  divine  illumination,  thus  rendering  the  darkest 
texts  "profitable." 


£DWARD  PAYSON.  73 

ends  with  remarks  on  1  John,  5  :  8.  Whether  they 
Were  continued,  iu  another  volume,  to  the  end  of  Re- 
velation, does  not  appear.  These  notes  are  short  in 
themselves,  and  much  abbreviated  in  the  form  of  ex- 
pression, but  bear  marks  of  a  kind  and  extent  of  in- 
vestigation highly  creditable  to  his  learning  and  judg- 
ment, as  well  as  to  his  diligence  and  fidelity.  Dis- 
crepancies are  accounted  for  and  reconciled ;  figures 
are  explained ;  chronology,  philosophy,  topography, 
natural  history,  ancient  languages,  are  made  to  con- 
tribute to  the  elucidation  of  Scripture.  Against  pro- 
phecies which  have  received  their  completion,  are 
found  references  to  the  historical  characters  and 
events  by  Avhich  they  are  supposed  to  have  been  ful- 
filled. It  is  difficult  to  characterize  these  notes  by  any 
general  term,  except  that  they  are  exegetical,  in  dis- 
tinction from  practical  and  experimental.  Those  on 
the  New  Testament  are  professedly  collated,  in  part; 
and  though  the  same  should,  on  examination,  be  found 
true  of  the  rest,  the  manuscript  is  evidence  of  his  care- 
ful study  of  the  Scriptures  ;  and  for  this  purpose  it  was 
introduced  to  notice. 

To  learn  more  fully  Mr.  Payson's  estimate  of  the 
Scriptures,  the  reader  should  peruse,  in  this  connec- 
tion, his  sermon,  entitled  '■  The  Bible  above  all 
Price."*  In  that  discourse  the  preacher  is  much  at 
home ;  he  treads  on  ground  where  he  delighted  to  lin- 
ger. He  explores  a  field  with  whose  riches  and  beau- 
ties he  was  familiar.  He  clusters  together  its  excel- 
lencies with  a  dexterous  and  bountiful  hand,  and  de- 
scribes its  efficacy  like  one  who  "  spoke  that  which  he 

*  Tract  No.  71,  of  the  American  Tract  Society. 
M.  P.  7 


74  MEMOIR    OP 

lmec\%  and  testified  that  -which  he  had  seen."  His  fa- 
miliarity with  the  Scriptures  -was  strikingly  apparent 
in  his  pulpit  addresses  generally  ;  not  so  much  by  long 
quotations  as  by  their  general  spirit,  and  the  sacred  as- 
sociations he  was  continually  awakening.  They  bore 
prominent  traces  of  the  divine  model  he  so  faithfully 
studied,  not  in  matter  only,  but  in  the  manner  of  ex- 
hibiting it, — so  plain,  that  his  hearers  could  not  but 
see  it, — enforced  by  considerations  so  reasonable  and 
moving,  that  they  must  feel  self-condemned  for  reject- 
ing it.  They  were  not  the  cold  abstractions  of  a  specu- 
lative mind,  but  the  doctrines  which  are  according  to 
godliness,  clothed  in  the  fervid  language  which  affec- 
tion dictates.  They  were  not  truths  merely,  but  truths 
uttered  by  one  who  had  felt  their  power  and  experi- 
enced their  consolations,  under  the  influence  of  that 
Spirit,  who,  to  use  his  own  expressive  language,  "  lives 
and  speaks  in  every  line." 

But  there  is  another  part  of  his  example  more  diffi- 
cult to  imitate  than  the  one  just  sketched.  He  prayed 
without  ceasing.  Aware  of  the  aberrations  to  which  the 
human  mind  is  liable,  he  most  earnestly  sought  the 
guidance  and  control  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  He  felt  safe 
no  where  but  near  the  throne  of  grace.  He  may  be  said 
to  have  studied  theology  on  his  knees.  Much  of  his 
time  he  spent  literally  prostrated,  with  the  Bible  open 
before  him,  pleading  the  promises — "  I  will  send  the 
Comforter — and  when  he,  the  Spirit  of  truth,  is  come, 
he  will  guide  you  into  all  truth."  He  was  especially 
jealous  of  his  own  heart,  and,  to  conquer  its  evil  pro- 
pensities, subjected  his  body  as  well  as  his  mind  to 
the  severest  discipline.  No  man  ever  strove  harder  to 
"  mortify  the  flesh,  with  the  affections  and  lusts."    It 


EDWARD   PAYSON.  75 

is  almost  incredible  what  abstinence  and  self-denial 
he  voluntarily  underwent,  and  what  tasks  he  imposed 
on  himself,  that  he  might  "  bring  every  thought  into 
captivity  to  the  obedience  of  Christ."  He  allowed  him- 
self only  a  small  part  of  the  twenty-four  hours  for 
sleep;*  and  his  seasons  of  fasting  were  injuriously 
frequent.  So  far  did  he  carry  his  abstinence  from  food, 
that  his  family  were  alarmed  for  his  safety.  Often 
has  his  mother,  whom  he  most  tenderly  loved  and  re- 
verenced, and  w^hose  wishes  were  law  to  him,  in 
every  thing  besides  his  religious  principles  and  inter- 
course with  his  Maker — in  every  thing,  in  short,  which 
did  not  bind  the  conscience — often  has  his  mother,  or 
a  favorite  sister,  stood  at  the  door  of  his  chamber, 
with  a  little  milk,  or  some  other  refreshment  equally 
simple,  pleading  in  vain  for  admission. 

The  expediency  or  duty  of  such  severe  mortifica- 
tion turns  on  the  question  of  its  necessity  to  the  at- 
tainment of  the  object  for  which  in  this  instance, 
it  was  practiced.  If  the  subjection  of  the  heart  and 
mind,  with  all  their  powers,  to  Christ,  could  not  other- 
wise be  effected,  he  was  unquestionably  right ;  for  no 
sacrifice  or  sufi'ering  which  is  requisite  to  this  can  be 

*The  following  division  and  appropriation  of  his  time  was 
■entered  in  his  diarj'  about  five  weeks  after  his  return  to  his 
father's : 

"  Oct.  5.  Resolved  to  devote,  in  future,  twelve  hours  to  study; 
two  to  devotion;  two  to  relaxation;  two  to  meals  and  family  de- 
votions ;  and  six  to  sleep."  But  this  did  not  long  satisfy  hira. 
His  rigid  notions  of  duty  led  hira  to  subtract  two  hours  from 
the  six  devoted  to  sleep,  and  to  multiply  his  seasons  of  fasting  to 
a  degree  which  the  human  system  could  not  long  have  sus- 
tained. A  weekly  fast,  however,  was  habitual  with  him,  from 
this  time  till  his  last  sickness. 


76  MEMOIR   OP 

too  great.  "If  thy  right  hand  offend  thee,  cut  it  off; 
if  thine  eye  cause  thee  to  offend,  pluck  it  out."  It  is 
moreover  true,  that  the  most  eminent  saints  of  ancient 
and  later  times  have  devoted  frequent  seasons  to  pri- 
vate fasting  and  prayer ;  and  the  practice  may,  there- 
fore, be  ranked  among  the  essential  means  of  rapid 
and  extensive  growth  in  grace.  It  were  well  for  indi- 
viduals, it  were  well  for  the  church,  if  the  practice 
should  revive,  and  become  common.*  So  far  from 
weakening  the  charities  of  life,  or  diminishing  the 
amount  of  active,  social  duties,  it  would  greatly  en- 
hance them.  We  should  witness  a  more  vigorous  and 
determined  piety,  a  more  diffusive  and  efficient  bene- 
volence. 

Still  the  religion  of  Christ  enjoins  no  needless  aus- 
terities. It  has  at  times  called,  and  may  again  call, 
for  the  sacrifice  of  health,  and  life,  and  treasure;  for 
the  renunciation  of  friends  and  home,  and  all  its  en- 
dearments. But  in  ordinary  circumstances,  "  Godli- 
ness is  profitable  unto  all  things — to  the  life  that  now 
is,  as  well  as  that  which  is  to  come."  It  did  not  re- 
There  are  some  distinguished  laborers  in  the  vineyard  of  our 
Lord,  who  practice  the  essential  duty  here  recommended,  not  so 
much  by  totally  abstaining  from  food  beyond  the  accustomed 
intervals,  as  by  "denying  themselves"  at  every  meal,  and  using 
a  spare  and  simple  diet  at  all  times, — a  course  well  adapted  to 
preserve  both  mind  and  body  in  the  best  condition  for  biblical 
research  and  devotional  exercises.  This  modification  of  the 
duty  was  much  practiced  by  Mr.  Payson,  and  strongly  recom- 
mended by  him  to  the  members  of  his  church.  He  would  have 
them,  when  fasting  on  their  own  private  account,  not  "appear 
unto  men  to  fust;"  but  to  come  to  the  table,  which  was  spread 
for  their  families,  with  a  cheerful  countenance,  and  partake 
sparingly  of  its  provisions. 


EDWARD   PAY30N.  77 

quire  injurious  excess  of  abstinence  and  mortification 
in  one  situated  as  Mr.  Payson  was.  He  afterwards 
saw  his  error — not  in  fasting,  but  in  fasting  so  long — 
and  lamented  it  In  this  matter  his  mother  was  the 
wiser  counselor.  What  she  feared  came  upon  him ; 
the  unhappy  consequences  to  his  health  were  felt,  it 
IS  believed,  to  his  dying  day. 

The  truth  is,  Mr,  Payson  never  did  any  thing  by 
halves.  Whatever  were  the  objects  immediately  be- 
fore him,  he  was  totus  in  iliis,  wholly  engrossed  Vvdth 
them.  He  was  therefore  particularly  liable  at  this 
stage  of  his  experience,  glowing,  as  he  did,  with  all 
the  ardor  of  a  first  love,  and  panting  for  the  honor  of 
winning  souls  to  Jesus,  to  give  an  undue  intensity  to 
the  meaning  of  those  passages  which  prescribed  his  per- 
sonal duty.  When  he  read  the  strong  language  of  Paul 
—"mortify  your  members,  that  are  upon  the  earth;" 
and  contemplated  his  example — "  I  keep  under  my 
body,  and  brinc^  it  into  subjection ;"  and  desired  above 
all  things  to  be  another  such  champion  of  the  cross ; 
bis  susceptible  and  ardent  mind  might  have  imbibed 
Yiews  of  duty  which  needed  to  be  corrected  by  an- 
other remark  of  the  same  apostle — '"bodily  exercise 
proflteth  little."  When  attended  with  the  expecta- 
tion, however  latent,  that  it  will  purchase  immuni- 
ties, or  merit  heaven,  so  far  from  "profiting"  at  all,  it 
vitiates  the  act,  rendering  it  not  only  useless,  but  abo- 
minable. Such  an  expectation,  however,  was  totally 
abhorrent  to  all  Dr.  Payson's  views  ;  and  its  existence 
in  the  faintest  degree  is  not  be  supposed  on  any  other 
principles  than  those  which  are  common  to  men  whose 
deceitful  hearts  practice  innumerable  impositions,  un- 
suspected by  their  possessors 

M.  P.  7* 


78  MEMOIR    OF 

If  "  he  who  ruleth  his  spirit  is  greater  than  he  who 
taketh  a  city,"  the  rigid  discipline  and  government  to 
which  Mr.  Payson  subjected  the  passions  of  the  mind 
and  the  appetites  of  the  body,  arTord  the  most  conclu- 
sive proof  of  his  real  greatness,  as  well  as  of  his  deci- 
sion and  energy  of  character,  and  of  his  unshaken  ad- 
herence to  his  purposes.  Ignorance  and  prejudice,  un- 
der a  show  of  superior  discernment,  v/ill  see  in  this 
conduct  the  future  "  pope  ;"  for  prejudice,  like  malice, 
will  remain  blind  to  one  important  fact,  which  should 
never  be  lost  sight  of  in  estimating  Mr.  Payson's  cha- 
racter. Except  in  things  expressly  enjoined  in  the 
Scriptures,  he  never,  at  this  time  or  afterwards,  made 
his  own  practice  a  law  for  others.  If  he  "  bound  heavy 
burdens  and  grievous  to  be  borne,"  he  did  not  "  lay  them 
on  other  men's  shoulders,"  but  made  his  own  bear  their 
oppressive  weight.  He  urged  self-denial,  prayer,  and 
fasting,  indeed,  as  he  was  obliged  by  the  authority  un- 
der which  he  acted ;  but  left  the  measure  and  degree 
to  the  decision  of  each  man's  conscience.  He  knew 
more  than  others  of  the  strength  of  depravity  in  his 
own  heart,  and  supposed  he  had  need  of  severe  mea- 
sures to  subdue  it ;  that  it  was  of  a  "kind,"  of  which  he 
could  not  be  dispossessed  "  but  by  prayer  and  fasting." 
He  righily  judged,  too,  that  a  minister  of  the  meek  and 
seK-denying  Jesus  needed  a  more  than  ordinary  share 
of  humility  and  self-government,  to  be  separated  far- 
ther from  the  contaminations  of  the  world  than  other 
men,  and  to  have  the  habitual  state  of  his  affections 
more  heavenly.  Moreover,  he  had  an  overwhelming 
sense  of  ministerial  responsibility,  and  looked  forward 
to  the  office,  not  without  hope  indeed,  but  yet  trembling 
for  the  results,   Why  then  should  he  not  learn  to  "en- 


EDWARD   PAYSON.  79 

dure  hardness  as  a  good  soldier  of  Jesus  Christ?"  And 
yet  thousands  of  nominal  Christians  will  censure  this 
severe  regimen  as  criminal,  by  whom  he  would  have 
been  suffered  lo  escape  without  animadversion,  had  he 
indulged  in  an  occasional  surfeit,  and  mingled  in  par- 
ties of  pleasure. 

But  who  can  say  that  he  was  not  moved  by  an  in- 
fluence which  it  would  have  been  sinful  to  resist,  at 
least  till  he  had  reached  that  limit,  beyond  which  per- 
severance was  excess  ?  That  God,  who  sees  the  end 
from  the  beginning,  fits  his  instruments  for  the  pecu- 
liar service  which  he  is  preparing  for  them.  A  great 
and  arduous  work  was  appointed  for  Mr.  Pay  son,  as 
the  event  proved.  And  for  that  kind  of  preparation, 
which  consists  in  fasting  and  communion  with  God, 
he  had  the  high  example  of  the  Jewish  lawgiver,  and 
of  One  greater  than  Moses.  Thus  did  Christ,  our  ex- 
ampler,  previous  to  entering  on  his  public  ministry ; 
and  also  when  from  among  his  disciples  he  "  chose 
twelve,  whom  he  named  apostles."  Thus  did  the  apos- 
tles, after  Christ's  ascension,  whenever  they  were  call- 
ed to  set  apart  a  brother  to  the  work  of  the  ministry. 

In  this,  however,  and  other  duties,  the  time,  man- 
ner, and  extent  of  which  are  left  undetermined  by  the 
express  statutes  of  Christ's  kingdom,  it  is  safer  to  act 
according  to  our  convictions  of  duty,  for  the  time  be- 
ing, than  to  make  these  convictions  our  unchangeable 
rule  of  conduct  for  future  time.  It  is  a  wise  direction, 
"  Be  not  rash  with  thy  mouth,  and  let  not  thy  heart  be 
hasty  to  utter  any  thing  before  God."  In  binding  our- 
selves by  vows  to  any  course  of  conduct,  regard  should 
be  had  to  our  circumstances  as  social  beings,  depen- 
dent on  one  another,  as  well  as  on  the  Author  of  our 


80 


MEMOIR   OF 


existence.  No  man,  perhaps,  ever  reached  any  high 
degree  of  eminence,  who  did  not  form  purposes  and 
resolutions,  and  adhere  to  them,  when  formed,  with 
some  degree  of  constancy.  There  are  obvious  advan- 
tages in  having  our  general  course  marked  out  before 
us — in  prosecuting  our  various  duties  by  system,  and 
not  at  random.  But  when  we  descend  to  details,  and 
assign,  beforehand,  to  every  hour  of  the  day  its  em- 
ployment, or  oblige  ourselves  to  fill  up  a  given  number 
of  hours  with  a  particular  pursuit,  we  should  not  over- 
look the  limits  of  human  ability,  nor  the  thousand 
changes  which  may  take  place  in  our  circumstances, 
and  in  our  relations  with  those  beings  among  whom 
God  has  placed  us.  In  consequence  of  such  changes, 
other  duties  may  have  a  paramount  claim  to  those  very 
hours ;  and  if  our  resolutions  are  formed  without  an  eye 
to  such  contingencies,  they  may  prove  a  snare  to  us. 
Disappointments  will  be  unavoidable;  vexation  and 
discouragement  will  ensue.  It  is  not  to  be  presumed 
that  Mr.  Payson  formed  his  purposes  without  reference 
to  the  vicissitudes  of  the  human  condition.  Still,  his 
chagrin  on  failing  sometimes  to  accomplish  them,  af- 
fords reason  to  think  that  he  might  have  been  too  san- 
guine. It  is  a  little  remarkable,  that  the  next  day  after 
he  had  sketched  the  plan  for  his  future  daily  employ- 
ment, unforeseen  events  necessarily  prevented  his  ex- 
ecuting it. 

'•  Oct.  6.  In  great  confusion  this  morning — sister 
sick — father  going  a  journey — little  lime  for  prayer. 
Was  so  much  hindered  in  various  ways  that  I  did  not 
fulfill  my  twelve  hoitrs." 

From  causes  equally  beyond  his  control  he  often 
failed  of  accomplishing  all  that  he  prescribed  to  him- 


EDWARD   PAYSON.  81 

self.  Such  were,  nevertheless,  his  most  laborious 
days.  When  hindered  and  diverted  from  his  object, 
he  would  goad  himself  onward  to  extraordinary  exer- 
tion ;  and  when  successful  in  executing  his  plan,  his 
satisfaction  was  exquisite. 

The  influence  of  habitual  prayer  upon  his  studies 
was  so  certain  and  so  operative,  that  the  strength  of 
his  devotion  seems,  for  the  most  part,  to  have  been 
the  measure  of  his  progress.  By  his  very  near  ap- 
proach to  the  Father  of  lights,  his  mind  received,  as 
it  were,  the  direct  beams  of  the  Eternal  Fountain  ot 
illumination.  In  the  light  of  these  beams  the  truths 
of  religion  were  distinctly  perceived,  and  their  rela- 
tions readily  traced.  These  irradiations  from  the  throne 
of  God  not  only  contributed  to  the  clearness  of  his  per- 
ceptions, but  imparted  a  kind  of  seraphic  energy  and 
quickness  to  his  mental  operations.  Froni  them  he 
derived,  not  light  only,  but  heat.  Few  requests  were 
urged  by  him  more  constantly  and  earnestly  than  his 
petitions  for  assistance  in  study ;  and  not  unfrequently 
he  records  results  similar  to  the  following : — "  Was 
much  assisted  in  my  studies  this  evening,  so  that,  not- 
withstanding I  was  interrupted,  I  was  enabled  to  write 
twelve  pages  of  my  sermon.  It  was  the  more  pre- 
cious, because  it  seemed  to  be  in  answer  to  prayer." 
Those  who  would  esteem  such  an  "evening's  work" 
as  too  insignificant  to  be  noticed  with  special  grati- 
tude, should  know  that  he  had  now  been  only  part  of 
a  month  in  his  retirement.  Three  days  later  he  writes 
— "  Was  most  remarkably  assisted  in  study,  so  that  I 
wrote  three-fourths  of  a  sermon."  And  on  the  other 
hand,  there  are  entries  of  a  different  character.  One 
may  serve  as  a  specimen. 


83  UEMom  OF 

"  Sept.  23.  Was  quite  dull  and  lifeless  in  prayer, 
and,  in  consequence,  had  no  success  in  study." 

Sometimes  even  his  '"  lively,"  fervent  prayers  were 
not  followed  by  immediate  returns ;  but  when  the  an- 
swer was  granted,  it  brought  with  it  a  rich  compensa- 
tion for  the  extreme  perplexity  and  distress  which  the 
delay  occasioned  him : 

^^  March  4.  Was  entirely  discouraged  respecting 
my  studies,  and  almost  determined  to  give  up  in  de- 
spair. But  see  the  goodness  of  God  I  He  enabled  me 
to  write  a  whole  sermon,  besides  reading  a  great  deal; 
and  in  the  evening  was  pleased  to  lift  up  the  light 
of  his  countenance  upon  me.  O  how  refreshing, 
strengthening,  and  animating  are  his  smiles !  How 
ravishing  the  contemplation  of  his  holiness,  love,  wis- 
dom, power  and  goodness  !  He  seemed  to  be  a  bound- 
less ocean  of  love ;  and  the  sight  caused  my  heart  to 
expand  with  love  to  him  and  all  his  creatures.  O  how 
trifling  do  earthly  beauties  appear  when  he  is  pleased 
to  unveil  his  face,  and  give  a  glimpse  of  heaven  !  His 
holiness  is  the  chief  glory  of  his  nature." 

But  in  nothing  was  his  progress  more  rapid  than 
in  self-knowledge.  Here — whether  success  or  disap- 
pointment crowned  his  other  pursuits — he  was  conti- 
nually extending  his  discoveries.  To  those  who  are 
ignorant  of  "  the  plague  of  their  own  heart,"  his  con- 
fessions of  sin  must  appear  extravagant,  and  his  de- 
scription of  his  heart  a  picture  having  no  original, 
save  in  an  apostate  spirit.  He  calls  it  "a  compound 
of  every  thing  bad."  He  likens  it  to  "  the  bottomless 
pit ;  out  of  it — as  soon  as  the  door,  with  which  the 
Holy  Spirit  covers  it,  is  opened  by  his  absence — a 
thick,  noisome  smoke  arises,  with  a  tribe  of  hellish 


EDWARD    PAY  SON.  83 

locusts,  that  devour  the  tender  plants  of  grace,  and 
bring  on  a  darkness  which  may  be  felt."  Now,  he  is 
"  crushed  into  the  very  dust  by  the  recollection  of  the 
sins  of  his  youth ;" — now,  "  filled  with  distressing  feel- 
ings, and  loses  all  hope  that  he  shall  ever  be  fit  to 
preach ;"  while  these  very  feelings  he  attributes  to  a 
criminal  cause,  as,  "  disappointed  pride,  and  a  conscious 
inferiority  to  others."  At  another  time  he  is  "brought 
into  temptations,  which  show  his  inward  corruptions, 
against  which  he  had  been  praying,"  or  Avhich  he  had 
not  before  suspected  in  himself.  Again,  if  he  "  at- 
tempts to  approach  the  throne  of  grace,  whole  floods 
of  evil  imaginations  carry  him  away  !  so  that  he  is 
fain  to  have  recourse  to  unthought-of  methods  to  get 
rid  of  them."  And,  not  to  prolong  the  enumeration, 
he  is  oppressed  with  "  such  a  sense  of  his  insignifi- 
cance and  viieness,  that  it  seemed  as  if  he  should  ne- 
ver open  his  mouth  any  more,  to  boast,  complain,  or 
cejisure." 

Still,  his  religion  differed  as  widely  from  that  of 
the  mere  ascetic,  as  Christian  charity  differs  from  self- 
ishness. Its  fruits  demonstrate  the  genuineness  of 
the  stock.  His  first  care  was,  indeed,  to  have  his  own 
"heart  right  with  God  ;"  but  he  was,  at  the  same  time, 
fertile  in  good  devices,  and  prompt  to  execute  them. 
To  his  mother,  under  domestic  trials,  the  nature  of 
which,  though  not  indicated,  appears  to  have  caused 
her  bitterness  of  soul,  he  was  eminently  "a  son  of 
consolation."  To  other  members  of  the  family  he 
strove  to  be  useful.  The  eye  that  could  penetrate  the 
walls  of  his  chamber,  might  have  seen  him  conduct- 
ing a  younger  brother  to  the  throne  of  grace,  kneeling 
with  him  before  the  mercy-seat,  and  interceding  with 


84  MEMOIR   OP 

God  for  his  salvation.  He  encountered  a  journey  fof 
the  express  purpose  of  visiting  an  early  friend,  of* 
whose  piety  he  had  once  some  hope,  but  Avho,  he  fear- 
ed, had  now  become  indifferent  to  the  one  thing  need- 
ful— that  he  might  know  his  state,  and  encourage  him 
to  seek  that  good  part  which  could  not  be  taken  from 
him.  And  so  much  were  his  benevolent  feelings  drawn 
forth  towards  the  inhabitants  of  his  native  town,  that 
he  spared  no  suitable  exertions  for  their  spiritual  good. 
A  revival  of  religion  among  them  was  the  subject  of 
fervent  prayer ;  and  in  the  same  object  he  endeavored 
to  enlist  other  Christians.  He  procured,  through  the 
agency  of  his  mother,  the  institution  of  a  weekly  meet-- 
ing  of  female  members  of  the  church,  for  united  prayer 
that  the  work  of  God  might  be  revived.  In  short,  so 
far  was  he  from  being  bound  up  in  self,  that  he  exerted 
himself  for  the  good  of  others  in  such  ways  as  were 
proper  for  one  in  a  state  of  pupilage. 

Even  in  the  most  distressing  parts  of  his  experience 
there  are  discoverable  those  characteristics  which  dis- 
tinguish it  from  the  torturing  convictions  of  the  unre- 
newed soul.  If  he  is  in  "  a  sullen,  stupid  frame,"  it  is 
not  without  "  some  melting  desires  after  God.'-  If  he 
is  well  nigh  "overcome  by  temptation,"  it  is  that  he 
may  "rejoice  the  more  at  his  deliverance,  when  God 
gives  him  the  victory."  If  he  is  "  discouraged  because 
of  the  difficulties  of  the  way,  and  the  small  progress 
which  he  makes."  just  as  "  all  hope  seems  departing, 
the  fire  burns  within  him."  Uniformly,  his  war  is  with 
himself,  and  not  with  his  God.  And  if  to  prevent  the 
night-watches^  that  he  might  meditate  in  God's  vaord; 
if  to  love  the  habitation  of  his  house,  and  the  place 
where  his  honor  dwelleth;  if  to  account  himself  and 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  85 

all  things  else  as  nothing  for  Christ's  sake;  lixoknow 
in  whom  he  has  believed^  and  to  draw  near  to  him  in 
full  assurance  of  faith  ;  if  to  be  satisfied  as  with  mar- 
row and  fatness,  lohile  remembering  God  and  medi- 
tating on  him,  in  the  night-watches  ;  if  to  prevent  the 
dawning  of  the  m-orning  by  the  cries  of  prayer  ;  if  to 
prefer  Jerusalem  above  one's  chief  joy — are  scriptural 
marks  of  piety  ;  then  is  his  placed  beyond  suspicion. 
All  these,  and  more,  will  be  recognised  in  the  extracts 
from  his  journal,  with  which  this   chapter  concludes. 

"  Sept.  29.  Had  a  most  transporting  view  of 
God's  glory  as  consisting  in  pure  holiness.  I  rejoiced 
greatly  that  he  reigned,  and  could  exalt  his  own  glory. 
Henceforth  I  will  not  doubt  of  my  character;  for  I 
know,  yea,  assuredly  know,  that  I  love  God  my  Sa- 
vior, and  holiness. 

"  Oct.  19.  Sabbath.  Rose  with  thoughts  of  God  on 
my  mind.  Was  exceedingly  assisted  in  secret  and  in 
family  prayer.  Never  had  my  desires  and  affections 
so  much  drawn  out  after  God  and  holiness.  Was  filled 
with  the  gracious  influences  of  the  Spirit,  so  that  I  re- 
joiced with  joy  unspeakable  and  full  of  glory.  Never 
did  earth  appear  so  small,  heaven  so  desirable,  the  Sa- 
vior so  precious,  holiness  so  lovely,  God  so  glorious, 
as  now.  In  reading  the  Scriptures,  they  seemed  to 
open  with  a  clearness  and  force  which  delighted  and 
astonished  me.  Such  a  sweet,  calm,  soul-satisfying 
joy  I  never  felt  before  m  so  great  a  degree.  Nothing 
on  earth  seemed  worth  a  serious  thought,  but  to  glorify 
God.  Had  much  of  the  same  temper  through  the  day. 
Was  more  assisted  at  meeting  than  ever  before.  In 
the  evening  had  a  clearer  sense  of  the  evil  of  sm,  a 
greater  hatred  of  it,  and  more  fixed  resolutions  against 

M.  p.  8 


DO  MEMOIR   or 

it  than  ever.  This  has  been  by  far  the  most  profitable 
and  blessed  day  to  my  soul  that  I  ever  experienced. 
God  be  praised ! 

"  Oct.  25.  Was  much  depressed  with  a  view  of  the 
numerous  enemies  which  oppose  my  journey  heaven- 
ward. Had  a  faint  glimpse  of  Christ,  as  able  to  carry 
me  through  in  spite  of  all.  Never  before  had  such  a 
clear  idea  of  the  passage — If  the  righteous  scarcely 
are  saved.  Seemed  to  be  plunged  in  a  bottomless 
ocean  of  sin  and  corruption,  from  which  no  efforts  of 
my  own  could  free  me. 

"  Nov.  2.  Communion  Sabbath.  Blessed  be  God, 
who  has  caused  his  loving-kindness  to  appear.  En- 
joyed much  assistance  in  family  and  secret  prayer. 
Was  enabled  to  drag  my  sins  to  Christ,  beseeching  him 
to  slay  them  for  me.  Afterwards  enjoyed  great  sweet- 
ness in  meditation.  Was  preserved,  in  some  measure, 
from  wandering  thoughts  at  meeting.  Had  a  profitable, 
though  not  a  very  happy  time,  at  communion.  After 
meeting,  was  favored  with  considerable  liberty  in  fa- 
mily and  secret  devotions. 

"  Nov.  10.  Had  petitioned,  last  night,  that  I  might 
awake  at  a  given  hour ;  my  petition  was  granted,  and 
I  was  assisted  in  prayer.  Felt  my  dependence  on  God 
for  strength.  Was  surprisingly  favored  all  day.  Was 
in  a  sweet,  humble  frame.  1  admired  and  loved  the 
work  which  Christ  had  wrought  in  my  heart  by  his 
Spirit,  just  as  1  should  have  admired  it  in  any  other. 
My  faith  seemed  to  be  unusually  strong,  able  to  grap- 
ple with  any  thing.  I  felt  all  day,  that  I  depended 
entirely  on  Christ  for  the  continuance  of  my  strength. 

"  Nov.  18.  After  retiring  to  rest  last  night  was  fa- 
vored with  an  extraordinary  display  of  divine  grace. 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  87 

I  rejoiced  that  the  Lord  reigned  ;  that  Jesus  was  ex- 
alted far  above  principalities  and  powers.  I  was  per- 
mitted to  approach  very  near  him,  and  to  plead  with 
much  confidence  and  earnestness  for  myself  and 
others.  Waked  several  times  in  the  night  in  the 
same  frame.  In  the  morning  was  favored  with  still 
clearer  views,  and  more  near  access  to  my  Saviour, 
and  rejoiced  with  joy  unspeakable  and  full  of  glory. 
Could  not  find  words  to  utter  my  praises  for  such 
goodness.  Had,  too,  a  most  humiliating  view  of  my 
own  vile  and  odious  nature. 

"  Nov.  19.  My  gracious  God  is  still  loading  me  with 
his  unmerited  goodness.  His  mercies  follow  each 
other,  as  wave  follows  wave,  and  the  last  seems  ever 
the  greatest  This  morning  I  seem  to  enjoy  the  hap- 
piness of  heaven. 

"  Nov.  21.  Resolved  to  spend  this  day  in  fasting  and 
prayer  for  greater  measures  of  grace,  and  assistance  to 
render  me  more  humble  and  concerned  for  God's  glo- 
ry ;  for  more  love  to  God  and  his  people,  and  for  minis- 
terial qualifications.  After  seeking  the  divine  presence, 
for  which  I  was  enabled  to  plead  with  great  earnest- 
ness, and  a  feeling  sense  that  I  could  do  nothing  with- 
out it,  I  endeavored  to  recollect  and  confess  my  sins.  I 
saw  myself  exceedingly  vile,  seemed  the  chief  of  sin- 
ners, to  be  worse  than  the  evil  spirits,  and  thought  that 
the  lowest  place  in  hell  was  my  due.  *  *  *  *  I  felt 
the  most  ardent  desire  for  God's  glory,  and  was  willing 
to  be  a  stepping-stone,  or  any  thing,  however  mean,  to 
promote  it.  To  be  a  fellow-laborer  with  Christ,  in  the 
glorious  work  of  bringing  souls  to  him,  seemed  to  be  the 
most  delightful  and  honorable  of  all  offices ;  and  in  this 
service  I  felt  willing  to  spend  and  be  sent ;  to  suffer  pain, 


00  MEMOIR   or 

contempt,  and  death  itself.  Felt  a  most  intense  love  for 
Christ's  people,  and  was  willing  to  be  below  them  all. 

"  Nov.  26.  As  soon  as  I  awoke,  felt  my  soul  go  forth 
in  longing  after  more  holiness,  and  promised  myself 
much  comfort  in  prayer.  But  my  Lord  withdrew  him- 
self, and  I  could  do  nothing.  Felt  convinced  that  it  was 
a  dispensation  of  love  for  my  good. 

"  Nov.  29.  Never  was  enabled  to  plead  with  such 
earnestness  and  submission  before.  My  mouth  was 
filled  with  arguments,  and  I  seemed  to  have  both  my 
Savior  and  the  blessed  Spirit  go  with  me,  and  plead  for 
me  at  the  throne  of  grace.  Was  favored  with  a  clear 
view  of  my  Savior's  beauty  and  holiness,  and  of  the 
scheme  of  salvation  by  him.  What  a  glorious  design, 
and  how  worthy  of  its  Author! 

"  Bee.  1.  Favored  with  an  uncommon  spirit  of 
prayer.  Saw  that,  as  a  member  of  Christ,  I  might  pray 
with  as  much  certainty  of  being  heard  as  Christ  him- 
self. Was  enabled  to  plead  his  merits,  sufferings,  death, 
God's  gracious  promises,  what  he  has  already  done  for 
me,  the  operations  of  his  own  Spirit,  and  his  own  con- 
duct in  hearing  others — as  reasons  why  he  should  hear 
me.  *  *  ♦  Was  graciously  assisted  in  pleading,  till  I 
received  an  answer  of  peace.  Was  most  sweetly  melt- 
ed with  a  view  of  the  love  of  the  blessed  Trinity  dis- 
played in  the  work  of  redemption,  and  the  vile,  un- 
grateful returns  I  had  made. 

"  Dec.  5.  Felt  a  full  persuasion  that  my  present 
dark,  comfortless  state  is  only  designed  for  good,  to 
teach  me  humility,  dependence,  and  weanedness  from 
the  Avorld ;  and  if  it  has  this  eflect,  I  welcome  it 
with  joy. 

"  Dec.  6.  All  my  proud  and  selfish  feelings  seemed 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  89 

to  be  annihilated.  I  saw  and  rejoiced  that  Jesus  had 
no  need  of  me,  and  that  he  would  be  praised  by  others, 
if  not  by  me,  to  all  eternity  ;  and,  provided  he  could  be 
glorified,  I  cared  not  how,  or  by  whom.  How  sweet  to 
have  pride  and  self  subdued  ! 

"  Dec.  9.  Determined  to  spend  this  day  in  fasting 
and  prayer  for  myself  and  the  advancement  of  religion 
in  this  place.  Had  great  and  special  assistance  last 
evening,  and  now,  in  pleading  for  the  outpouring  of 
the  Spirit  here,  and  for  help  in  the  duties  before  me. 
After  thinking  over  my  manifold  transgressions,  my 
sins  against  light  and  love,  and  confessing  them — I  at- 
tempted to  plead  my  Savior's  death  and  righteousness 
for  pardon  and  reconciliation.  I  could  not  obtain  it,  but 
was  for  three  hours  in  great  perplexity  and  distress, 
and  was  more  than  once  on  the  point  of  giving  up  in 
despair.  However,  I  was  enabled  to  continue  reading 
the  Scriptures  and  praying  till  afternoon,  when  the 
cloud  dispersed,  and  my  Savior  shone  out  brighter 
than  ever  before.  How  did  my  soul  rejoice,  and  plead 
for  sanctifying  grace  !  Was  exhausted  and  worn  out, 
but  continued  praying,  or  trying  to  pray,  till  night. 

"  Dec.  16.  Was  enabled  to  realise,  for  the  first  time 
in  my  life,  what  Christ  suffered,  and  for  what  a  wretch 
he  suffered.  Was  so  overwhelmed  with  the  view,  that 
I  could  not,  for  some  time,  shed  a  tear.  O  how  hateful 
did  sin  appear ! 

"  Dec.  17.  Was  much  assisted  in  writing  on  Christ's 
passion. 

"  Jan.  4,  1807.  Was  favored  with  a  spirit  of  prayer 
beyond  all  my  former  experience.  I  was  in  great  agony, 
and  wrestled  both  for  myself  and  others  with  great 
power.    God  seemed  to  bow  the  heavens  and  come 

M.  p.  8+ 


90  MEMOIR   OF 

down,  and  open  all  his  treasures,  bidding  me  take  what 
I  would. 

"  Jan.  6.  Was  not  favored  with  that  sweet  sense  of 
pardon  which  I  usually  find  on  occasions  of  fasting  : 
but  I  had  a  quiet,  peaceful,  resigned  frame,  and  felt 
none  of  those  repining  thoughts  which  the  absence  of 
sensible  comforts  is  apt  to  excite. 

"  Jan.  20.  Was  amazingly  assisted  in  prayer  for 
myself,  parents,  friends,  and  a  revival  of  religion. 

"  Jan.  21,  Was  favored  with  the  clearest  views  of 
the  glory  of  heaven,  as  consisting  in  holiness,  that  I 
ever  had. 

"  Jan.  29.  Never  felt  such  longings  after  God,  or 
such  a  desire  to  depart  and  be  with  Christ.  My  soul 
thirsted  for  more  full  communion  with  my  God  and  Sa- 
vior. I  do  not  now  feel  satisfied,  as  I  used  to,  with  the 
manifestations  of  the  divine  presence,  but  still  feel 
hungry  and  craving. 

"  Feb.  2.  Was  amazingly  given  up  to  wandering 
imaginations.  If  I  attempted  to  pray,  in  a  moment  my 
thoughts  were  in  the  ends  of  the  earth.  If  I  attempted 
to  read  the  Bible,  every  verse,  almost,  afforded  ground 
of  doubt  and  caviling.  This  fully  convinced  me  that 
Satan  is  able  to  make  me  doubt  even  the  existence 
of  God. 

"  Feb.  18.  Was  enabled  to  lie  at  Jesus'  feet,  and  to 
wash  them  w..'th  the  tears  of  contrition.  No  pleasure 
I  have  ever  fou.id  in  religion  superior  to  this. 

"  Feb.  20.  Reisolved  to  spend  the  day  in  fasting,  and 
had  considerable  a.^^sistance.  Had  clearer  views  of  the 
majesty,  purity,  anO  holiness  of  God  than  usual,  and 
this  made  me  abhor  myself,  and  repent  in  dust  and 
ashes. 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  91 

"  Feb.  28.  Was  favored  with  great  enlargement  in 
prayer.  Seemed  to  be  carried  out  of  myself  into  the 
presence  of  God. 

"  MarchQ.  Seem  to  be  declining ;  and  less  grateful, 
less  fervent,  than  I  was,  and  have  less  tenderness  of 
spirit.  Yet  I  am  less  apt  to  think  much  of  myself  than 
I  was,  and  hope  I  am  growing  in  humility.  This 
seems  the  most  lovely  grace,  and  most  becoming 
sinners. 

"  March  7.  Were  it  not  for  the  promised  help  of 
my  Savior,  I  would  think  no  more  of  preaching,  but 
rather  labor  for  daily  bread. 

"  March  12.  Never  appeared  so  exceedingly  vile 
and  loathsome  to  myself  as  I  did  this  day.  It  seemed 
as  if  I  could  not  endure  to  be  near  myself  No  words 
could  express  any  thing  like  the  sense  I  had  of  my  un- 
worthiness.  It  seemed  as  if  I  could  not,  for  shame,  ask 
God  to  save  me.  I  felt  like  sinking  into  the  dust,  in 
the  idea  that  his  pure  eye  was  fixed  upon  me,  and  that 
saints  and  angels  saw  how  vile  I  was. 

"  March  15.  Sabbath.  Rose  very  early,  and  was 
favored  with  sweet  fervency  and  communion  with 
God  in  prayer.  Went  to  bed,  and  lay  till  morning. 
Enjoyed  great  liberty  in  prayer  several  times  before 
meeting. 

"  March  17.  Was  favored  with  a  peculiar  experience 
this  morning.  I  thought  I  knew  that  I  could  never  heal 
myself  before ;  but  I  was  made  to  know  it  in  a  different 
manner  now.  I  saw,  with  most  convincing  clearness, 
that  neither  I,  nor  all  created  beings,  could  do  the  least 
thing  towards  delivering  me  from  my  sinful  nature.  I 
saw  that  I  depended  entirely  on  the  free  mercy  of  God  ; 
and  that  there  was  no  reason  but  hig  own  good  plea- 


92  MEMOIR   OF 

sure  why  he  should  ever  afford  me  that  assistance. 
Felt,  for  the  first  time  in  my  life,  what  the  apostle 
meant  by  "  groanings  which  cannot  be  uttered ;"  and 
my  desires  after  holiness  were  so  strong,  that  I  was  in 
bodily  pain,  and  my  soul  seemed  as  if  it  would  burst 
the  bands  which  confined  it  to  the  body. 

"  March  19.  [At  the  close  of  a  day  of  fasting  and 
prayer.]  I  find  that,  even  when  the  spirit  is  willing, 
the  flesh  is  weak.  No  days  are  so  fatiguing  as  those 
which  are  spent  in  fervent  and  continual  exercises  of 
religion.    It  will  not  be  so  m  heaven. 

"  March  26.  Spent  the  day  in  fasting  and  prayer. 
Was  favored  with  near  access  to  my  heavenly  Father, 
and  a  realizing  sense  of  his  perfections.  O  how  sweetly 
was  I  enabled  to  praise  and  admire  his  love  and  good- 
ness in  his  works ! 

'•'•March  31.  Spent  this  day  fasting,  but  not  in 
prayer ;  for  I  could  not  put  up  a  single  petition.  Was 
entirely  deserted,  and  was  ready  to  say.  Surely  it  is 
in  vain  to  seek  after  God.  I  could  not  see  that  I  had 
advanced  one  step  in  holiness,  and  was  ready  to  think 
I  never  should  ;  yet  could  think  of  nothing  else  worth 
pursuing  or  living  for.  Doubted  whether  it  were  pos- 
sible that  I  should  know  any  thing  of  true  religion,  and 
yet  be  so  entirely  barren. 

'•'  April  7.  In  fasting  and  prayer,  was  favored  with 
much  of  a  spirit  of  supplication.  I  noAV  seem  to  be 
lifted  above  those  discouraging,  desponding  doubts, 
which  have  for  some  time  clogged  my  soul.    No  good 

COMES  of  doubting,  OR  OF  BROODING  OVER  OUR  SINS. 

"  April  14.  Spent  this  day  in  fasting  and  prayer. 
Was  wholly  deserted,  except  that  I  saw  more  of  my 
natural  depravity,  and  the  consequent  pollution  of  all 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  93 

5iiy  duties,  than  ever  before.  Saw  more,  too,  of  the 
glory  and  greatness  of  the  work  of  redemption  than  I 
had  previously. 

"  April  22.  Spent  this  day  in  fasting  a«id  prayer. 
At  first  was  stupid ;  but  soon  God  was  pleased  to  lift 
tp  the  light  of  his  countenance  upon  me,  and  visit  me 
vith  his  free  Spirit.  O  how  infinitely  glorious  and 
lovely  did  God  in  Christ  appear !  I  saw,  I  felt,  that 
Ood  was  mine,  and  I  his,  and  was  unspeakably  happy. 
Now,  if  ever,  I  enjoyed  communion  with  God.  He 
shone  sweetly  upon  me,  and  1  reflected  back  his  beams 
in  fervent,  admiring,  adoring  love.  Had  a  most  ra- 
vishing view  of  the  glories  of  heaven,  of  the  ineffable 
delight  with  which  the  Lord  Jesus  beholds  the  happi- 
ness which  he  has  purchased  with  his  own  blood."^ 


CHAPTER   V. 

His  state  of  mind  in  the  immediate  prospect  of  the  ministry. 

The  time  now  drew  near  when  Mr.  Pay  son  was  to 
receive  license  to  preach  the  Gospel.  His  spirituality 
appears  to  have  increased  as  that  interesting  era  of  his 
life  approached.  Most  sensibly  did  he  feel  that  he 
"  was  no  longer  his  own,  but  bought  with  a  price," 
and  "  called  by  grace  to  serve  God  in  the  Gospel  of  his 
Son."  "  The  world  was  crucified  to  him,  and  he  to  the 
world."  His  piety  was  distinguished  by  more  frequent 
acts  of  self-dedication  to  God — not  by  short  ejacula- 
tions and  a  general  surrender  merely,  but  with  great 


94  MEMOIR   OP 

deliberation,  attended  by  a  minute  survey  of  the  rela- 
tions of  the  creature  to  the  Creator,  and  of  the  obliga- 
tions recognised  and  assumed  by  such  a  consecration. 
Happily,  one  specimen  of  the  manner  in  which  he  ga\'e 
himself  up  is  preserved;  and,  though  it  describes  th? 
secret  dealings  of  the  soul  with  its  God,  it  is  hopei 
that  it  will  not  be  desecrated  by  being  brought  out  to 
the  light.  If,  however,  the  reader  never  felt  the  awe 
which  is  created  by  a  consciousness  of  the  divine  pre- 
sence— if  he  never  experienced  the  emotions  of  an  an- 
cient pilgrim,  when,  preparing  for  a  similar  transac- 
tion, he  exclaimed,  "  How  dreadful  is  this  place  !" — 
he  is  urgently  requested  to  pause.  If  he  is  conscious 
of  any  other  feelings  than  those  of  profound  solemnity, 
let  him  leave  this  chapter  unread.  In  it  he  will  find 
nothing  with  which  a  mind  given  to  levity,  or  vanity, 
or  pride,  can  possibly  sympathize.  If  he  ventures  to 
proceed,  he  will  be  met  at  the  threshold,  if  not  by  "a 
drawn  sword  in  the  hand  of  the  Captain  of  the  Lord's 
host,"  by  that  which  is  scarcely  less  appalling  to  an 
earthly  mind,  and  which  will  render  almost  equally 
appropriate  the  order  addressed  to  Israel's  leader — 
"  Loose  thy  shoe  from  off  thy  foot;  for  the  place  where- 
on thou  standest  is  holy." 

"  May  1,  1807.  Having  set  apart  this  day  for  fast- 
ing and  prayer,  preparatory  to  the  celebration  of  the 
Lord's  supper,  I  rose  early,  and  sought  the  divine  pre- 
sence and  blessing,  in  which  I  was  favored  with  fer- 
vency and  freedom.  My  petition  was,  that  I  might 
be  enabled  to  see  my  own  character,  contrasted  with 
the  purity  of  God,  and  his  holy,  just,  and  good  law; 
that  I  might  be  assisted  in  renewing  covenant  with 
God,  and  in  giving  myself  up  to  him,  and  that  I  might 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  95 

be  favored  with  ministerial  qualifications.     After  this, 
I  drew  up  the  following 

CONFESSION  AND  FORM  OF  COVENANT. 

"  O  thou  High  and  Holy  One,  that  inhabitest  eter- 
nity, whose  name  alone  is  Jehovah, — who  art  the  one. 
great,  eternal,  ever-blessed  God,  before  whom  angels 
bow  and  devils  tremble,  and  in  whose  sight  all  the  na- 
tions of  the  earth  are  less  than  nothing  and  vanity  ! — 
wilt  thou  graciously  condescend,  in  thy  sovereign  and 
infinite  goodness,  to  look  down  from  thy  throne  of 
glory  on  me,  the  most  unworthy  of  thy  creatures,  a 
poor,  weak,  sinful,  vile,  and  polluted  wretch,  to  behold 
me  with  mercy  and  compassion,  and  permit  me,  lying 
prostrate  in  the  dust  before  thee,  to  address  thee  as 
my  God,  my  Father,  my  Creator,  my  Benefactor,  my 
Friend  and  Redeemer ! 

"  O  Lord,  I  would  come  with  a  heart  broken  and 
contrite  for  sin,  acknowledging  myself  unworthy  of 
the  least  of  all  thy  mercies,  and  deserving  nothing  at 
thine  hand  but  everlasting  banishment  from  thee  and 
happiness.  Encouraged  by  thine  own  gracious  pro- 
mises, I  would  come,  and,  with  humble  confidence, 
take  hold  on  the  hope  set  before  me,  even  thine  ever- 
lasting covenant,  which  is  ordered  in  all  things  and 
sure.  But,  O  God,  what  am  I,  that  I  should  be  called 
thy  son,  that  I  should  call  thee  my  Father,  or  that 
thou  shouldst  enter  into  covenant  with  me  ?  I  blush, 
and  am  ashamed  even  to  lift  up  my  face  unto  thee,  O 
my  Father ;  for  I  have  sinned  against  thee,  and  am 
exceeding  vile,  vile  beyond  what  language  can  de- 
scribe or  thought  conceive.     My  iniquities  are  gone 


90  MEMOIR   OF 

over  my  head;  they  are  increased  even  to  the  hea- 
vens ;  they  are  infinite  in  number,  in  degree,  and  ag- 
gravation, and  can  be  equalled  only  by  thy  mercies, 
which  have  been  new  every  moment.  Thou,  O  God, 
hast  given  me  life,  and  dost  still  preserve  me  in  ex- 
istence. Thou  hast  given  me  faculties  which  render 
me  capable  of  knowing,  serving,  loving,  worshiping, 
and  enjoying  thee.  Thou  hast  placed  me  in  this  Chris- 
tian land,  and  given  me  the  knowledge  of  thee,  my- 
self, and  my  duty,  while  thousands  of  my  fellow-crea- 
tures are  left  in  darkness.  Thou  hast  placed  me  in 
that  situation  in  life  which  is  most  favorable  to  vir- 
tue, contentment,  and  happiness,  and  hast  given  me 
parents  tender  and  affectionate,  who  early  devoted  me 
to  thee,  and  taught  me  to  lisp  thy  name,  and  to  know 
thy  precepts.  Through  their  means  thou  hast  given 
me  opportunities  of  improving  those  faculties  I  have 
received  from  thee,  and  thus  rendering  myself  more 
fit  to  serve  thee.  But  above  all,  O  my  God,  thou  hast 
given  me  an  interest  in  thy  Son,  and  in  all  the  bless- 
ings he  has  purchased.  Thou  hast  given  me  the  Spi- 
rit of  adoption,  whereby  I  am  enabled  to  cry,  Abba, 
Father.  Thou  hast  given  me  thy  precious  grace  in 
this  world,  as  an  earnest  of  glory  in  the  next.  Thou 
hast  also  loaded  me  with  daily  and  hourly  mercies, 
more  than  I  can  number.  Thou  hast  kept  me  with 
more  than  parental  care.  Thou  hast  preserved  me  m 
sickness,  protected  me  from  dangers,  shielded  me 
while  awake,  watched  over  me  in  sleep,  supported  me 
in  trials,  strengthened  me  in  weakness,  succored  me 
in  temptations,  comforted  me  in  afliictions,  and  de- 
fended me  against  mighty  and  numberless  enemies. 
Thou  hast  overwhelmed  me  with  thy  mercies  j  my 


EDWARD   PAYSON.  97 

cup  runneth  over.  Thy  goodness  and  thy  mercy 
have  followed  me  all  the  days  of  my  life. 

"  Yet  against  all  this  goodness  I  have  rebelled, 
have  rewarded  thee  evil  for  good ;  thy  mercies  have 
only  aggravated  my  guilt.  O  my  God,  what  have  I 
done  !  What  madness,  what  obstinacy,  what  ingrati- 
tude has  possessed  me !  My  sins  have  run  parallel 
with  thy  mercies.  I  have  struck  and  wounded  the 
hand  that  made  me,  fed  me,  preserved  me.  I  have 
wasted  in  sin  and  folly  the  life  thou  gavest  me.  I 
have  perverted  those  faculties  I  received  from  thy 
goodness  in  dishonoring  thee,  and  in  disobeying  thy 
commands.  I  was  shapen  in  sin,  and  brought  forth 
m  iniquity.  My  understanding  is  darkened  and  alien- 
ated from  the  truth ;  my  will  is  stubborn  and  perverse ; 
my  affections  are  corrupted  and  depraved ;  and  every 
imagination  of  the  thoughts  of  my  heart  has  been  evil, 
only  and  continually  evil.  My  carnal  mind  has  been 
enmity  against  thee,  and  has  not  been  in  subjection  to 
thy  righteous  and  holy  law.  From  this  corrupt  and 
bitter  fountain  have  proceeded  innumerable  bitter,  pol- 
luting streams.  Though  I  was  early  taught  thy  will, 
I  neglected  to  perform  it.  I  have  broken  all  thy  com- 
mands, times  without  number.  My  words,  thoughts, 
and  actions,  have  been  sinful.  I  have  gone  astray 
from  my  youth  up. 

"  And  even  after  thou  didst  take  pity  upon  me,  when 
I  was  cast  out,  polluted,  to  perish  in  my  blood — after 
thou  didst  receive  me,  a  poor,  wretched  prodigal,  and 
didst  cause  thy  wondrous  goodness  and  mercy  to  pass 
before  me,  I  have  still  continued  to  weary  thee  with 
my  sins,  and  cause  thee  to  serve  with  mine  iniquities. 
I  have  broken  that  solemn  covenant  by  which  I  bound 

M.  p.  9 


vo  MEMOIR   OP 

myself  to  be  thine.  I  have  indulged  an  evil  heart  of 
unbelief,  in  departing  from  the  livirg  God,  and  have 
in  all  things  dealt  very  treacherously.  How  often 
have  I  mocked  thee  with  solemn  wurds  on  a  thought- 
less tongue  !  How  have  I  neglected  thy  word,  pro- 
faned thine  ordinances,  broken  thy  law,  and  resisted 
thy  grace !  How  little  of  a  filial  temper  have  I  felt  to 
thee,  my  Father  !  How  little  gratitude  to  thee,  blessed 
Savior  !  How  often  have  I  grieved  thee,  O  Holy  Spi- 
rit, by  whom  I  am  sealed  to  the  day  of  redemption  ! 
When  thou  liftest  upon  me  the  light  of  thy  counte- 
nance, I  grow  proud,  carnal,  and  secure ;  and  when 
thou  leavest  me  in  darkness,  when  my  own  foolish- 
ness perverteth  my  way,  then  my  proud  heart  fretteth 
against  thee,  the  Lord.  All  my  duties  are  polluted 
with  innumerable  sins,  and  are  as  a  leprous  garment 
before  thee.  And,  after  all  thou  hast  done  for  me,  I 
am  still  encompassed  about  with  innumerable  evils. 
Pride,  unbelief,  selfishness,  lust,  anger,  hatred,  malice, 
revenge,  bitterness,  slothfulness,  vanity,  love  of  the 
world,  ignorance,  formality,  hypocrisy,  and,  with  all 
these,  self-conceit,  are  still  the  inhabitants,  if  not  the 
lords,  of  my  heart.  And,  as  thou,  O  Lord,  knowest, 
these  are  not  the  ten  thousandth  part  of  my  sins  and 
iniquities ;  so  that  I  am  the  chief  of  sinners,  and  the 
least  of  all  saints.        ****** 

"  O  wretched  man  that  I  am!  Who  shall  deliver 
me  from  this  body  of  death?  Vain,  O  Lord,  thou 
knowest,  are  my  endeavors,  and  vain  is  the  help  of 
man.  I  have  ruined  myself,  and  in  thee  alone,  and 
in  thy  mercy,  is  my  hope. 

"To  this  mercy,  against  which  I  have  so  often 
sinned,  would  I  flee  for  refuge,  and  laying  my  hand 


EDWARD   PAYSOIf.  99 

on  my  mouth,  and  my  mouth  in  the  dust,  cry,  Unclean ! 
unclean  !  True,  Lord,  I  have  sinned  ;  but  with  thee 
there  is  mercy,  with  thee  there  is  plenteous  redemp- 
tion. Thou,  thou  art  he  who  blottest  out  our  iniqui 
ties  for  thine  own  sake,  and  will  not  remember 
our  sins  against  us.  The  blood  of  Christ  cleanseth 
from  all  sin,  and  to  this  would  I  flee  for  refuge.  In 
him  do  I  put  my  trust;  O  let  me  not  be  ashamed. 
Let  me  plead  before  thee  the  merits  of  thy  Son,  and 
put  thee  in  mind  of  thy  gracious  promises,  that  I  may 
be  justified.  In  his  name,  and  as  an  unworthy  mem- 
ber of  his  mystical  body,  would  I  come,  and  renew 
before  thee  that  covenant  which  I  have  broken,  and 
bind  myself  to  be  thine  for  ever.  And  do  thou,  for 
his  sake,  O  God,  assist  me ;  for  in  thee  is  my  strength. 
"  Relying  on  this  strength  for  support,  and  confess- 
ing myself  guilty  of  all  these  and  innumerable  other 
offences,  and  that  I  deserve,  in  justice,  nothing  but 
the  lowest  hell,  and  renouncing  the  destructive  ways 
of  sin, — I  do,  with  my  whole  heart  and  soul,  in  a 
most  serious,  solemn,  and  deliberate  manner,  choose 
and  take  the  Lord  Jehovah  to  be  my  God  and  Father, 
cheerfully  and  joyfully  renewing  all  my  past  engage- 
ments ;  and,  in  humble  dependence  on  his  grace,  I 
engage  to  fear  him,  and  cleave  to  him  in  love.  And 
I  do  most  freely  give  up  myself,  my  interests,  for 
time  and  for  eternity,  my  soul  and  body,  my  friends 
and  possessions,  and  all  that  I  have,  to  his  wise,  just, 
and  sovereign  disposal.  Especially  do  I  devote  my- 
sf  If  to  him  in  the  service  of  the  ministry,  beseeching 
him  to  place  me  in  that  situation  in  which  I  shall 
most  glorify  him.  And  wilt  thou,  O  most  gracious 
and  condescending  God,   accept  this  offering  of  thy 


100  MEMOIR    OP 

creature,  who  can  give  thee  nothing  but  what  he  has 
first  received. 

"  With  equal  joy  and  readiness,  and  in  the  same 
serious  and  solemn  manner,  do  I  choose  and  embrace 
the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  to  be  my  only  Savior.  I  take 
him  in  all  his  offices — as  my  Priest,  to  make  atonement 
for  all  my  offences — as  my  Prophet,  to  guide,  teach, 
enlighten  and  instruct  me — as  my  King,  to  rule  in 
and  reign  over  me.  I  take  him  as  the  great  Head  of 
influences,  from  whom  alone  1  can  receive  all  needed 
supplies  of  grace  and  assistance. 

"  I  do  also  take  the  Holy  Spirit  of  all  grace  and 
consolation  to  be  my  Sanctifier,  and  promise  not  to 
grieve  him,  or  to  slight  his  warnings. 

"  And,  O  my  God,  what  shall  I  more  say  ?  what 
can  I  ask,  since  I  am  thine,  and  thou  art  mine ;  mine, 
for  time;  mine,  for  eternity?  O  my  God,  I  want 
nothing  but  to  be  wholly  thine.  I  would  plead  thy 
promise  for  a  new  heart  and  a  right  spirit.  O  write 
this  covenant  on  my  heart,  and  put  thy  fear  there, 
that  I  may  not  depart  from  thee.  May  I  be  made  an 
able,  faithful,  and  successful  minister  of  the  New 
Testament.  May  the  life  and  concerns  which  I  have 
now  devoted  to  thee  be  employed  in  thy  service  ;  and 
may  I,  at  length,  be  brought  to  the  full  enjoyment  of 
thee  in  glory,  through  infinite  riches  of  redeeming 
love. 

"  As  a  testimony  of  my  sincere  and  hearty  consent 
to  this  covenant,  of  my  hope  and  desire  to  receive  the 
blessings  of  it,  and  as  a  swift  witness  against  me  if  I 
depart  from  it ;  I  do  now,  before  God  and  the  holy 
angels,  subscribe  with  my  hand  unto  the  Lord. 

"Edward  Payson. 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  101 

"  And  may  this  covenant  be  ratified  in  heaven. 
And  do  thou  remember,  O  my  &oul,  that  the  vows  ot 
God  are  upon  thee. 

"  Having  drawn  up  the  above  covenant,  I  spread  it 
before  the  Lord  ;  and  after  confession  of  sins,  and 
seeking  pardon  through  the  blood  of  Christ,  I  did 
solemnly  accept  it  before  him  as  my  free  act  and  deed ; 
and  embraced  Christ  in  it,  as  the  6nly  ground  of  my 
hope.  I  then  pleaded  for  all  covenanted  blessings, 
and  was  favored  with  great  fervency  and  enlargement 
in  prayer.  An  indisposition,  which  attended  me  through 
the  day,  rendered  it  less  profitable  than  usual ;  yet  I 
have  abundant  reason  to  bless  God  for  the  measure  of 
assistance  I  received.  I  felt  the  most  longmg,  intense, 
and  insatiable  desires  after  holiness,  and  to  be  era- 
ployed  in  promoting  the  divine  glory.  The  world, 
with  its  applause,  seemed  nothing  in  comparison  with 
the  approbation  of  God.  Existence  seemed  worth  pos  - 
sessing  only  as  it  could  be  employed  in  praising  him." 

In  this  and  other  places  he  descends  to  specifica- 
tions of  sins  in  terms  which  may  be  thought  applica- 
ble to  none  but  a  monster  of  wickedness  ;  and  yet  they 
are  the  judgment  passed  on  himself  by  a  man  always 
and  universally  respected  for  the  correctness  and  pu- 
jrity  of  his  morals.  His  "  pride  "  never  looked  with  dis- 
dain upon  the  meanest  fellow-creature;  his  "malice" 
and  "revenge"  never  inflicted  actual  injury;  and  of 
any  outbreakings  of  the  baser  and  more  degrading  pas- 
sions he  stands  unindicted  by  all  except  himself.  Nor 
were  these  humiliating  confessions,  this  extraordinary 
self-abasement,  made  to  attract  notice  and  give  him- 
self importance  in  the  eyes  of  others — one  of  the  very 
worst  and  most  odious  forms  in  which  pride  operates 

M.  p.  9* 


102  MEMOIR  or 

— for  to  them  no  mortal  was  ever  privy.  They  were 
not  known  to  a  fellow-creature  till  since  he  dropped 
the  clods  of  mortality.  They  describe  what  he  ap- 
peared to  himself  to  be  in  the  immediate  presence  of 
the  perfectly  holy  and  heart-searching  God.  Still, 
many  will  repeat  the  question — If  he  alludes  to  no 
crimes  with  which  every  man  might  not  with  equal 
propriety  charge  himself,  whence  the  justice  or  truth 
of  the  charges  ?  Here  again  he  shall  be  his  own  in- 
terpreter. Let  those  who  are  oppressed  with  this  dif- 
ficulty carefully  read  his  sermon  entitled.  Sins  esti- 
mated by  the  Light  of  Heaven  *  and  they  will  find  a 
full  and  satisfactory  solution.  This,  and  the  sermon 
just  alluded  to,  will  furnish  a  key  to  the  true  import 
of  much  of  the  language  which  he  employs  in  describ- 
ing the  darker  and  more  distressing  parts  of  his  expe- 
rience. 

The  effects  of  his  severe  regimen  and  night  vigils 
on  his  health  had  already  begun  to  appear,  and  were 
somewhat  aggravated  by  a  bodily  injury  which  he  re- 
ceived about  this  time.  The  circumstances  are  said 
to  have  been  these :  He  had  accompanied  his  father 
and  another  clergyman  to  an  ordination.  On  their  re- 
turn, as  he  was  feasting  his  mind  with  such  medita- 
tions as  the  scenery  and  the  occasion  suggested,  they 
outrode  him.  His  horse,  being  left  principally  to  his 
own  guidance,  by  suddenly  leaping  a  brook,  brought 
his  rider  to  the  ground,  whose  right  shoulder  was  dis- 
located by  the  shock.  A  partial  faintness  succeeded, 
from  which  he  was  recovered  by  bathing  his  temples 
with  water  from  the  stream.  Attempting,  in  this  dis- 
abled condition,  to  regain  the  saddle  by  leaping  from 
*  Tract  No.  58,  American  Tract  Society. 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  103 

a  neighboring  fence,  he  was  precipitated  over  the 
horse  to  the  ground,  and  the  bone  was  restored  to  its 
place  by  the  fall.  In  after  life  it  was  often  displaced, 
and  sometimes  in  circumstances  not  a  little  embarrass- 
ing and  distressing ;  and  for  many  months  before  his 
death,  and  even  before  he  ceased  to  appear  in  the  pul- 
pit, that  arm  hung  useless  by  his  side.  From  this  time 
the  state  of  his  health  is  the  subject  of  frequent  allu- 
sion, as  may  be  seen  from  his  journal,  parts  of  which, 
for  several  successive  days,  are  subjoined,  bringing 
down  his  history  to  the  date  of  his  license  to  preach 
the  Gospel : 

"  May  2.  Was  exceedingly  weak  through  the  day, 
both  in  body  and  mind,  and  was  enabled  to  do  little 
or  nothing.     Could  only  wish  and  sigh. 

"  May  3.  Communion.  Had  considerable  flow  of 
affections,  but  seemed  to  want  clearness  and  spiritual- 
ity. In  the  afternoon  was  more  dead  and  trifling.  So 
far  as  I  can  judge  from  my  feelings,  have  got  little 
good  by  this  opportunity.  Felt  deeply  oppressed  with 
guilt  after  meeting,  but  could  not  mourn  over  my  sin, 
as  I  would  fain  have  done,  nor  could  I  obtain  any 
sense  of  divine  love.  But  after  a  short  time  my  com- 
passionate Savior  was  pleased  to  melt  my  soul  with  a 
look  of  love,  and  I  felt  sweetly  humbled  and  contrite 
for  sin.  Although  I  had  carelessly  let  down  my  watch, 
yet  in  the  evening  he  was  pleased  to  return,  and  give 
me  the  sweetest  humbling  season  I  ever  enjoyed.  I 
never  felt  so  vile,  so  insignificant,  so  like  nothing,  so 
emptied  of  self.  And  when  I  was  thus  empty,  he  was 
pleased  to  fill  me  with  himself;  so  that  I  was  burnt 
up  with  most  intense  love  and  pantings  after  holiness. 
Never  before  had  I  such  faith  and  fervency  in  prayer. 


104  MEMOIR    OF 

I  was  as  happy  as  nature  could  sustain,  and  could  only 
say — Blessed  Jesus  !  this  is  thy  work.  See  my  happi- 
ness. It  proceeds  from  thee  !  This  is  the  fruit  of  thy 
travail  of  soul.  Renewed  my  covenant,  and  gave  up 
my  whole  soul,  with  all  its  powers,  to  God  as  my  Fa- 
ther, Christ  as  my  Savior,  and  the  Holy  Spirit  as  my 
Sanctifier.  Had  another  sweet  season  in  prayer ;  but 
was  assaulted  by  spiritual  pride.  I  see  frowns  are 
n£cessary  for  me. 

'■''May  4.  Was  less  favored  this  morning  than  last 
evening  ;  but  had  some  assistance.  Was  aid  id  in  writ- 
mg,  but  greatly  oppressed  with  pride  and  vr.nity,  which 
made  their  attacks  "por.  me  in  inexpres'.ible  shapes, 
while  I  could  do  no-i.^.g. 

"  May  5.  Spent  this  day  in  the  woods,  in  fasting 
and  prayer,  with  a  view  to  obtain  mortification  of  my 
abominable  pride  and  selfishness.  Was  favored  with 
much  fervency  and  enlargement  the  former  part  of  the 
day,  but  was  afterward  much  deserted ;  seemed  to 
make  no  advances  in  holiness ;  to  be  of  no  advantage 
to  the  Avorld,  and  unfit  to  live. 

"  May  6.  Had  some  freedom  in  prayer.  Felt  very 
feeble,  and  unfit  for  study ;  but,  praying  that  Christ's 
strength  might  be  made  perfect  in  my  weakness,  I  was- 
helped  to  write  more  than  usual. 

"  May  7.  Out  of  order  both  in  body  and  mind. 
Did  little  in  my  study,  and  had  little  freedom  in  prayer. 

^^  May  8.  Had  some  life  and  fervency  this  morn- 
ing ;  but  was  exercised  with  Avandering  thoughts. 
Could  do  little  all  day. 

^'■Mayd.  Was  much  perplexed  with  some  business 
with  **  **,  so  that  I  could  neither  read  nor  pray,  any 
:nore  than  I  could   remove  a  mountain.     This  was 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  105 

made  useful  to  me.  I  saw  by  it  the  weakness  of  my 
graces,  and  learned  to  judge  more  favorably  of  those 
Christians  who  are  exposed  to  the  temptations  of  the 
world.  It  showed  me  also  my  need  of  divine  help 
more  clearly  than  ever.  Were  I  exposed  to  the  same 
temptations,  I  should  lose  all  sense  of  divine  things 
without  greater  supports  than  I  ever  had. 

"  May  10.  Was  very  unwell,  and  could  neither 
eat,  read,  nor  pray.    Was  excessively  melancholy. 

"  May  11.  Was  still  more  oppressed  with  melan- 
choly, and  felt  even  more  miserable.  ********* 
Was  ashamed  of  my  selfishness  and  ingratitude,  in 
despising  the  blessings  God  had  given  me.  Remained 
very  wretched,  and  unable  to  do  any  thing.  In  the 
evening  had  some  relief. 

^^  May  12.  Was,  if  possible,  still  more  gloomy  and 
depressed  than  yesterday.  Seemed  unfit  to  preach, 
and  even  to  do  any  thing.  Could  only  wander  about 
from  place  to  place,  seeking  rest,  and  finding  none. 
In  the  evening  a  person  arrived  from  Marlborough, 
inviting  me  to  come  and  preach  four  Sabbaths.  After 
putting  up  a  short  but  sincere  petition  that  I  might 
not  be  left  to  my  own  guidance,  and  asking  the  advice 
of  my  father,  I  promised  to  go.  Retired,  and  cast  my- 
self upon  the  Lord  for  support,  with  a  deep  sense  of 
my  own  utter  insufficiency. 

"  May  13.  Having  set  apart  this  day  for  fasting 
and  prayer,  with  reference  to  entering  on  the  work  of 
the  ministry,  I  sought  the  divine  presence  and  bless- 
ing, in  which  I  was  much  assisted.  Renewed  cove- 
nant with  God,  and  gave  myself  up  to  him  for  the 
work  of  the  ministry.  Was  helped  to  plead  with  far 
more  earnestness  than  ever  before,  and,  indeed,  with 


100  MEMOIR  OF 

as  much  as  my  nature  could  support,  or  was  capable 

of,  and  this  repeatedly  during  the  day. 

"  May  14.  Was  very  unwell,  and  apprehensive  of 
a  nervous  fever.  Could  not  read  the  most  amusing 
books  without  weariness  and  distraction ;  and  my  body 
was  so  weak  that  I  could  exercise  but  very  little. 
Yet,  by  divine  goodness,  was  preserved  in  a  quiet, 
submissive  frame. 

"  May  15.  Was  better,  and  had  some  sweetness 
in  secret  devotion.  Went  to  see  an  old  man  who  has 
been  converted  in  his  old  age.  Found  him  full  of 
affection,  and  possessing  remarkably  clear  views  of 
God  and  divine  things,  though  in  other  respects  weak 
and  illiterate.  Was  somewhat  refreshed  with  his 
conversation. — P.  M.  Forced  to  make  a  visit,  but 
helped  to  introduce  religious  conversation. 

^^  May  16.  Felt  very  lifeless  in  the  morning;  but 
in  secret  prayer  it  pleased  God  to  enliven  me.  In  the 
evening  was  favored  with  equal,  or  greater  degrees 
of  fervency.  My  soul  was  suddenly  humbled  and 
broken  for  sin.  I  seemed  to  be  much  the  least  of  all 
saints  ;  and  my  very  soul  panted  for  God  and  holiness, 
as  the  hunted  hart  for  the  water-brook.  Blessed  be 
God  for  this  day  ! 

"  May  17.  Sabbath,  A.  M.  Very  dull  and  lifeless  ; 
but  in  secret  prayer  the  cloud  was  removed,  and  I 
found  unspeakable  delight  in  drawing  near  to  God, 
and  casting  myself  upon  him.  Christ  appeared  incon- 
ceivably precious,  and  I  longed,  with  most  intense 
desire,  to  devote  myself  to  him,  and  to  be  like  him. 
I  could  not  but  rejoice  with  joy  unspeakable  and  full 
of  glory,  to  think  that  God  in  Christ  was,  and  would 
be,  infinitely  and  unchangeably  glorious  and  happy. 


EDWARD  PAYSON.  107 

In  Christ  I  beheld  such  fullness  and  sufficiency,  that 
all  my  late  tormenting  fears  respecting  being  qualified 
for  the  ministry,  and  assisted  in  it,  vanished.  In  the 
evening  was  overwhelmed  with  a  view  of  my  remain- 
ing corruptions,  and  especially  of  my  pride :  so  that 
I  was  in  a  perfect  agony,  and  could  scarcely  support 
it.  I  Vv'as  just  ready  to  despair,  and  give  up  all  future 
striving  as  vain ;  but  I  fled  to  Christ,  and  poured  out 
all  my  sorrows  into  his  bosom,  and  he  graciously 
pitied  me,  and  strengthened  me  with  might  in  my  soul. 
I  found  unspeakable  relief  in  telling  him  all  my  sor- 
rows and  difficulties.  O,  he  is  wonderfully,  incon- 
ceivably gracious  1 

^'' May  IS.  Had  very  little  freedom  or  fervency. 
Was  perplexed  with  the  scene  before  me,  and  could 
efiect  but  little. 

"  May  19.  Went  with  my  father  to  the  Association, 
for  the  purpose  of  receiving  their  approbation  to  preach 
the  Gospel.     Was  exceedingly  fatigued. 

"  May  20.  Was  examined  and  approbated.  Was 
so  weak  that  I  could  scarcely  stand  j  but  was  helped 
in  some  measure." 


108  MEMOIR   OP 


CHAPTER   VI 


His  first  efforts  as  a  preacher-^  His  religious  character  further 
developed. 

Having  been  regularly  introduced  and  recommended 
to  the  churches  as  a  preacher,  Mr.  Payson  proceeded, 
the  next  day,  to  Marlborough,  to  fulfill  his  engagement 
with  the  people  of  that  place.  Change  of  situation, 
however,  did  not  interrupt  his  communion  -with  God. 
On  the  way  his  mind  was  engrossed  with  divine 
contemplations,  and  w*ith  the  duties  and  responsibili- 
ties of  that  new  relation  in  which  he  now  stood  to  the 
church  and  the  world.  During  the  time  that  inter- 
vened between  this  and  the  Sabbath  he  was  not 
without  misgivings;  as  he  complains  of  being  "al- 
most discouraged  and  overwhelmed,  in  view  of  his 
unfitness  for  the  ministry ;"  and  once,  of  even  "  wishing 
himself  any  thing  rather  than  a  minister."  He  "  could 
hardly  conceive  it  possible  that  one  so  inconceivably 
vile  should  be  a  child  of  God ;  but  Avas  nevertheless 
helped  to  cast  his  burden  on  the  Almighty,  and  to 
agonize  in  prayer  to  be  delivered  from  this  body  of 
death."  The  Saturday  next  preceding  his  first  appear- 
ance in  the  pulpit,  he  had  "  resolved  to  spend  in  fasting 
and  prayer ;"  but  Avhen  the  day  arrived  his  "  health 
would  not  permit."  The  day  on  which  a  man  first 
stands  forth  as  the  ambassador  of  God  to  his  fellow- 
men,  is  an  important  era  in  his  life  ;  but  it  had  been 
anticipated  with  so  much  concern  by  Mr.  Payson,  that 
it  seems  to  have  been  distinguished  by  no  extraordi- 
nary strength  of  feelings.  His  own  account  of  them 
is  thus  expressed : 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  *  109 

''"May  24.  Sab.  Was  favored  with  considerable 
fervency,  life,  and  sense  of  dependence  this  morning. 
Endeavored  to  cast  myself  wholly  on  the  Lord  for 
support.  As  it  was  rainy,  there  were  very  few  people 
at  meeting;  and  I  just  got  through  without  stopping. 
Spoke  too  fast  and  too  low.  Was  a  good  deal  depress- 
ed after  meeting.  In  the  afternoon  did  a  little  better, 
but  still  bad  enough.  Was  very  much  fatigued,  and 
almost  in  a  fever;  but  enjoyed  some  comfort  after 
meeting." 

His  public  engagements,  important  as  he  felt  them 
to  be,  did  not  divert  his  attention  from  his  own  heart. 
On  the  contrary,  personal  religion  continued  to  be  a 
primary  concern.  Of  this,  as  well  as  of  the  varied  na- " 
ture  of  his  spiritual  exercises,  there  is  an  accumula- 
tion of  evidence : 

"  May  28.  Enjoyed  a  very  unusual  degree  of  sweet- 
ness and  fervor  this  morning.  O,  how  precious  did 
Christ  appear  to  my  soul !  How  I  longed  to  be  a  pure 
flame  of  fire  in  his  service,  to  be  all  zeal,  and  love,  and 
fervor  I  With  what  gratitude  did  I  look  up  to  him, 
saying.  Blessed  Savior,  behold  how  happy  I  am !  and 
to  thee  all  my  happiness  is  owing.  But  for  thee,  I 
should  now  have  been  lifting  up  my  eyes,  being  in  tor- 
ments. O  what  shall  I  render  unto  the  Lord  for  all  his 
benefits !  In  the  evening,  in  secret  prayer,  my  soul 
was  filled  with  unutterable  longings  and  insatiable 
thirstings  after  God  in  Christ.  I  earnestly  desired 
that  all  mankind  might  be  as  happy  as  I  was ;  that 
they  should  all  see  what  a  glorious,  amiable  being 
God  is,  that  they  might  love  and  praise  him.  Re- 
tired to  rest  with  a  clear,  sweet,  realizing  apprehen- 
M.  p.  10 


110  MEMOIR  OF 

sion  of  my  Savior's  presence,  and  dropped  to  sleep  in 
this  frame. 

^^  May  29.  Enjoyed  much  of  the  same  spiritual 
sweetness  which  I  felt  last  evening ;  but  was  much 
exercised  on  account  of  pride,  or  rather  love  of  ap- 
plause, Avhich  was  excited  by  some  approbation  which, 
I  lately  heard,  was  bestowed  on  my  preaching.  Strove 
with  all  my  might  to  be  delivered  from  this  hateful 
temper,  and  cried  for  some  time  to  my  Supporter  and 
Strength  ever  to  grant  me  his  grace  to  help.  Recalled 
to  mind  that  I  had  nothing  which  I  had  not  received ; 
that  I  had  most  wickedly  and  shamefully  wasted  and 
neglected  to  improve  my  talents ;  that  applause  was 
commonly  ill-bestowed ;  and  that  the  praise  of  men 
was  of  no  Avorth  compared  with  the  approbation  of 
God.  By  the  divine  blessing  on  these  and  other  simi- 
lar considerations,  I  was  helped  to  overcome  it.  In 
the  evening  was  much  assisted  in  prayer.  Had  a 
greater  s])irit  of  wrestling  for  the  conversion  of  sin- 
ners than  T  everjiad  before." 

He  is  often  "  discouraged  by  the  little  which  he  ac- 
complishes, and  the  selfish  motives  with  which  that 
little  is  defiled."  He  is  assailed  by  "strong  tempta- 
tions, which  drive  him  to  his  knees  for  assistance ;" 
and  by  "  frequent  recurrence  of  the  same  temptation," 
which  costs  him  long  and  seVere  "  struggles,  before  he  , 
is  favored  with  complete  victory.""  This  is  followed 
by  '"increased  confidence  in  God, "as  able  to  supply  all 
his  need,  and  at  the  same  time  with  a" more  humbling 
sense  of  his  unfitness  for  the  ministry."  And  even 
when  he  is  in  a  "  lively  frame,"  during  several  succes- 
sive days,  he  is  still  "astonished  at  his  siow  progress 
jx  religion."  Again,  "pride  and  unbelief  begin  to  work, 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  Ill 

and  render  him  miserable ;"  and  for  defence  against 
them  he  resorts  "to  prayer,  pleading  various  argu- 
ments for  the  space  of  an  hour,  before  he  is  able  to  re- 
press pride  and  repining  thoughts."  Nor  is  this  the 
extremity  of  his  conflict :  he  has  such  "  a  dreadful  view 
of  his  heart,  that  he  could  scarcely  support  the  sight 
of  himself ;"  while  this,  "instead  of  humbling,  only 
distressed  him,  so  that  he  is  at  last  obliged  to  desist, 
without,  as  he  can  perceive,  any  ansAver  at  all."  The 
next  day  he  can  cry  "Abba,  Father!"  with  all  the 
confidence  of  filial  love : 

"  June  6.  Had  many  sweet  seasons  of  prayer  during 
the  day,  and  was  assisted  in  pleading  for  the  presence 
of  the  Divine  Spirit  to-morrow. 

^'' June  8.  Had  great  earnestness  in  secret  prayer. 
Longed  to  be  wholly  devoted  to  God.  Thought  if  I 
could,  from  this  time,  do  every  thing  for  his  glory,  I 
would  willingly  resign  every  worldly  comfort,  and  be 
the  most  despised  object  on  the  face  of  the  earth. 
Went  to  a  funeral,  and  was  assisted  in  speaking  to 
the  mourners,  and  in  prayer. 

"  June  9.  Renewed  covenant,  and  took  God  for  my 
God,  and  gave  myself  up  to  him  in  sincerity,  and  with 
more  joy  than  I  ever  did  before.  In  the  afternoon  was 
favored  with  another  most  sweet  and  refreshing  sea- 
son in  secret  prayer.  Rave  seldom,  if  ever,  felt  more 
fervency,  more  hatred  of  sin,  and  more  longing  desires 
after  holiness. 

"  June  10.  The  family  being  mostly  absent  to-day,  I 
resolved  to  spend  it  in  fasting  and  prayer  for  a  supply 
of  ministerial  gifts  and  Christian  graces  ;  especially 
that  I  might  be  made  an  aole,  faithful,  and  successful 
minister  of  the  New  Testament.    Was  assisted,  both 


112  MEMOIR    OF 

last  night  and  this  morning,  in  seeking  the  divine  pre- 
sence and  blessing.  God  graciously  heard  and  an- 
swered me.  I  was  favored  with  great  and  unusual  fer- 
vency and  perseverance  in  prayer ;  Avas  enabled  to  con- 
fess and  mourn  over  my  sins,  and  to  mourn  because  I 
could  not  mourn  more  ;  and  was  assisted  in  renewing 
covenant  with  God,  and  in  giving  myself  up  to  be  his 
forever.  Was  entirely  exhausted  and  worn  out  in  body 
and  mind,  before  night,  by  the  strong  and  unutterable 
desires  I  felt  after  personal  holiness  and  the  success  of 
Christ's  kingdom.  On  the  whole,  it  has  been  a  very 
profitable  day  to  my  soul,  as,  by  divine  goodness,  most, 
if  not  all,  my  fast  days  have  been." 

Four  days  after  this  he  experienced  a  most  melan- 
choly reverse,  viewing  himself  as  the  "most  vile, 
loathsome,  worthless  wretch  in  existence ;  could  only 
throw  himself  prostrate,  and  utter  the  cry  of  the  pub- 
lican— '  God,  be  merciful  to  me  a  sinner.'  "  The  cause 
of  this  distress  is  unintentionally  indicated.  He  was 
"  sick  in  body  and  mind."     But, 

"  As  poison  oft  the  force  of  poison  quells," 
SO  the  far  more  wretched  condition,  and  still  more 
melancholy   prospects,    of  a    fellow-creature   caused 
him  to  forget  his  own  misery  : 

"  Was  called  to  see  a  sick  man,  supposed  to  be  dy- 
ing ;  he  was  a  professor,  aged  eighty-seven.  Found 
him  something  alarmed,  but  he  gave  no  satisfactory 
evidence  of  a  change.  Stated  to  him  his  danger  and 
the  remedy,  but,  I  fear,  to  little  purpose.  Was  much 
assisted  in  preaching.  My  strength  continued,  and 
even  increased,  though  quite  exhausted  at  the  close. 
Went  to  see  the  sick  man  again.  Found  him  better 
in  body,  but  worse  in  mind. 


LDWARD    ?AYSON.  113 

^^June  19.  Rose  in  the  same  state  of  mind  in  which 
I  lay  down.  Rode  out,  and  felt  some  better,  so  that  I 
found  some  liberty  to  pray. — P.  M.  Went  with  fear 
and  trembling  to  attend  a  funeral.  Was  assisted  in 
speaking  to  the  mourners  :  as  the  multitude  was  very 
great,  I  was  requested  to  pray  out  of  doors  ;  and,  though 
the  situation  was  new,  and  I  v/as  unwell,  I  was  car- 
ried through.  Felt  some  relief  from  my  load  of  me- 
lancholy, and  was  enabled  to  write. 

"  June  20.  Set  apart  this  day  for  fasting  and  prayer. 
Was  unusually  assisted  in  pleading  for  increase  in 
holiness.  Felt  such  intense  longings  and  thirstings 
after  more  love  to  God  and  man,  more  devotedness  to 
God's  will,  more  zeal  for  his  glory,  that  my  body  was 
almost  overcome.  Towards  night  Avas  enabled  to 
plead  with  greater  fervency  than  ever,  so  that  I  trust 
this  will  prove  the  most  profitable  day  I  have  ever 
had.  In  the  evening  was  greatly  assisted  in  prayer, 
so  that  I  could  scarcely  retire  to  rest. 

'^  June  21.  Went  to  meeting  with  raised  expecta- 
tions ;  but  it  pleased  God  to  leave  me  more  destitute 
than  usual,  though  I  was  carried  through.  When  I 
first  came  out  of  the  pulpit  I  was  not  in  a  very  good 
frame  ;  but  before  I  got  half  way  home,  was  easy,  sa- 
tisfied, and  even  pleased  to  be  despised,  so  that  God's 
will  might  be  done.  Was  much  more  assisted  in  the 
afternoon.     Felt  thankful. 

^^  June  22.  Very  unusual  degrees  of  fervor  this 
morning.  Very  unwell  all  day,  and  did  little  in  ray 
study.  In  the  evening  was  overwhelmed  with  a  sense 
of  my  own  unworthiness. 

"  June  23.  As  soon  as  I  awoke  this  morning  ray 
heart  was  filled  with  most  intense  love  to  God  and 

M.  p.  10* 


114  MEMOIR    OF 

Christ,  so  that  it  was  even  ready  to  break  for  the  long- 
ing desires  it  had  to  go  forth  after  God.  I  was  greatly 
assisted  in  praying  that  I  might  be  made  an  instru- 
ment of  promoting  the  divine  glory  in  the  world. 

"  Jwwe  25.  Thinking  it  would  be  more  convenient 
to  keep  my  weekly  fast  on  this  day,  sought  the  divine 
presence  and  blessing.  Felt  some  warm  affections 
towards  my  Savior  at  first,  but  afterwards  could  nei- 
ther realize  my  wants,  nor  pray  to  have  them  remov- 
ed. Continued  in  this  frame  till  towards  night,  and 
was  then  favored  with  a  deep  sense  of  my  utter  vile- 
ness.  Was  also  enabled  to  plead,  even  with  agony 
of  soul,  to  be  freed  from  the  power  of  a  selfish  nature. 
Could  not  think  of  being  any  longer  subject  to  it. 

"  June  26.  Much  favored.  Felt  insatiable  desires 
after  holiness,  and  that  I  might  spend  every  moment 
of  future  life  to  the  divine  glory. 

"  June  29.  Faint,  yet  pursuing,  is  a  good  motto  for 
me.  Could  do  nothing  in  the  morning,  but  in  the  after- 
noon gave  up  all  hopes  of  ever  doing  any  thing.  Ini- 
quities seemed  to  prevail  against  me,  and  I  was  ready 
to  despair ;  but,  throwing  myself  on  the  Lord  Jesus  for 
help,  I  received  strength.  In  the  evening  was  favored 
with  freedom.  Felt  that  I  am  much  more  habitually 
affected  by  religious  subjects  than  I  have  been  former- 
ly ;  nor  are  my  affections  less  vehement,  or  less  easily 
excited. 

"  July  5.  Sabbath.  Had  some  devout  feelings  and 
desire  after  assistance  this  morning,  but  could  not  get 
hold  of  any  thing  in  a  very  realizing  manner.  Was 
very  much  deserted  in  prayer  and  sermon,  and  felt 
much  distressed;  but  in  the  afternoon  was  favored 
with  great  enlargement,  both  in  prayer  and  sermon. 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  115 

Felt  a  strong  love  for  souls,  and  for  the  Lord  Jesus. 
Was  weak  and  exhausted  ;  but,  after  resting  awhile, 
had  a  most  sweet,  refreshing,  strengthening  season  in 
prayer.  Never  before  felt  so  much  of  the  spirit  of  the 
Gospel.  Felt  like  a  pure  flame  of  love  towards  God 
and  man.  Self  seemed  to  be  almost  swallowed  up. 
Felt  willing  to  go  any  where,  or  be  any  thing,  by 
which  God  could  be  glorified  and  sinners  saved.  Felt 
my  hopes  of  being  useful  in  the  world  strengthened. 
O  how  lovely,  how  kind,  how  condescendingly  gra- 
cious, did  my  God  appear !  Gave  myself  up  to  him 
without  reserve,  and  took  him  for  my  only  portion. 
Blessed  be  his  name  for  this  season. 

"  July  6.  Rode  out  this  morning,  and  found  much 
sweetness  in  continually  lifting  up  my  heart  to  God 
in  fervent  ejaculations.  In  the  evening  had  such  a 
view  of  the  difficulties  in  my  way,  and  of  my  exceed- 
ing sinfulness,  that  I  was  ready  to  sink ;  but  my  bless- 
ed Savior  put  forth  his  hand  and  caught  me. 

"  July  7.  Was  harassed  with  wandering,  gloomy, 
and  distressing  imaginations.  Could  not  fix  upon  a 
text,  and  was  much  perplexed  what  to  do.  Was  over- 
whelmed with  melancholy. — P.  M.  Went  to  a  funeral, 
and  was  favored  with  some  assistance.  Went  to  make 
a  visit ;  found  good  Christian  people,  a  most  kind  re- 
ception, and  profitable  conversation." 

Few  enjoyments  were  more  exquisitely  satisfying 
to  Mr.  Payson  than  those  which  he  derived  from  re- 
ligious intercourse.  In  a  company  of  fellow  Christians, 
whose  feelings  would  rise  responsive  to  his  own  when 
the  themes  of  a  Savior's  love,  and  of  human  obliga- 
tion and  privilege,  were  agitated,  his  soul  seemed  to 
revel  in  spiritual  delights ;  and  he  was  gifted  by  na- 


116  MEMOIR   OF 

ture  and  grace  with  the  prerogative  of  infusing  a  rich 
portion  of  his  own  emotions  into  the  rest  of  the  favored 
circle.  These  interviews  are  remembered  by  many  a 
surviving  pilgrim,  as  among  the  liveliest  emblems  of 
that  "  better  country,"  which  he  has  ceased  to  antici- 
pate, by  actual  fruition.  It  is  not  without  a  degree  of 
shrinking  that  we  follow  him  in  his  sudden  transition 
from  scenes  like  these  into  the  very  depths  of  distress. 
"  Other  griefs,"  he  says,  "  leave  the  mind  strength  to 
grapple  v/ith  them;  but  this  oppressive  melancholy 
cuts  the  very  sinews  of  the  soul,  so  that  it  lies  pros- 
trate, and  cannot  exert  itself  to  throw  off  the  load." 

The  next  day  after  penning  this  graphic  and  une- 
qualled description  of  his  real  malady,  he  is  seen  in 
the  "  chariot  of  Aminadab,"  his  mind  moving  with 
an  angel's  speed,  and  performing  the  labor  of  many 
days  in  one : — '•  Was  favored  with  fervency  and  free- 
dom in  prayer.  Was  greatly  assisted  in  writing  through 
the  day,  and  -wrote  nearly  two  sermons.  Felt  in  a  com- 
posed, thankful  frame  all  day,  and  felt  the  most  ardent 
love  for  the  Lord  Jesus,  and  for  all  mankind." 

In  the  mitigated  forms  of  melancholy  there  is  a 
soul-subduing  power,  Avhich  few  are  able  to  resist.  It 
then  loses  its  repulsive  character,  and  the  soul  of  the 
witness  is  attracted  and  melted  into  sympathy.  A 
mind  conscious  of  its  misery,  yet  retaining  its  balance, 
and  surveying  its  own  desolations  with  unrepining 
submission,  presents  a  spectacle  of  moral  sublimity, 
not  surpassed  by  any  thing  which  falls  under  human 
observation.  This  constitutes  one  of  the  charms  of  our 
Savior's  character,  and  much  of  the  value  of  his  ex- 
ample. In  this  attitude  Mr.  Payson  may  be  seen  in 
some  of  the  following  extracts,  and  very  often  in  the 
course  of  his  life. 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  117 

"  July  17.  Find  that  the  two  principal  things  in 
which  I  fail  externally,  are,  the  due  improvement  of 
time  and  the  government  of  my  tongue.  I  daily  lose 
many  moments — I  might  almost  say  hours — in  giving 
way  too  much  to  my  feelings  of  gloom  and  discou- 
ragement ;  and  I  say  many  things  Avhich  at  hest  are 
unprofitable. 

"  July  19.  Sab.  Rose  very  early,  worn  out  in  body 
and  mind ;  but  felt  sweetly  resigned  to  the  divine  will, 
and  was  willing  to  be  assisted  as  much,  and  as  little, 
as  God  should  see  fit.  Had  some  assistance  ;  but  after 
meeting  was  excessively  weak  and  depressed ;  thought 
I  would  give  the  world  if  I  never  had  preached,  and 
it  seemed  as  if  I  never  should  go  into  the  pulpit  again. 

"  July  20.  Overwhelmed,  sunk,  discouraged  with 
a  sense  of  sin.  All  efforts  seemed  to  be  in  vain.  Dis- 
coveries of  my  vileness,  instead  of  humbling  me,  as 
might  be  expected,  only  excited  discouragement  and 
unbelief;  while  the  manifestations  of  God's  love  only 
make  me  proud  and  careless.  My  wretched  soul 
cleaves  to  the  dust ! 

"  July  22.  O  what  a  dreadful,  what  an  inconceiv- 
able abyss  of  corruption  is  my  heart !  What  an  amaz- 
ing degree  of  pride  and  vanity,  of  selfishness  and  envy, 
does  it  contain ! 

"  July  23.  Was  excited  to  feel  fretful  and  peevish 
at  two  or  three  trifling  circumstances  ;  but  fled  for  re- 
fuge to  the  throne  of  grace,  and,  by  praying  for  myself, 
for  the  persons  with  whom  I  was  disposed  to  be  of- 
fended, and  especially  by  meditating  on  the  meekness 
and  gentleness  of  Christ,  was  enabled  to  preserve 
peace  and  tranquillity  of  mind.  Was  much  assisted 
in  prayer. 

# 


118  MEMOIR   OP 

"July  24.  Was  visited  by  a  young  student  in  di- 
vinity, and  had  some  profitable  conversation  with  him. 
Was  never  able  to  converse  in  a  clearer  manner  upon 
religious  subjects. 

"  Jubj  25.  This  being  my  birth-day,  I  set  it  apart 
for  solemn  fasting  and  prayer,  with  thanksgiving.  Af- 
ter confessing  and  mourning  over  the  sins  of  my  past 
life,  and  contrasting  them  with  God's  mercies,  and 
offering  up  praise  and  thanksgiving  for  his  goodness, 
I  solemnly  renewed  covenant  with  God,  and,  with  my 
whole  heart,  so  far  as  I  could  judge,  gave  myself,  my 
friends,  and  all  that  I  have,  to  be  disposed  of  as  he 
should  see  fit.  I  felt  willing  to  live  or  die,  as  God 
pleased,  and  to  go  among  the  Indians,  or  to  any  part 
of  the  world,  where  I  could  be  instrumental  in  pro- 
moting the  glory  of  God  and  the  happiness  of  man. 
Felt  unusually  longing,  insatiable,  and  intense  desires 
after  holiness  of  heart  and  life,  and  especially  after 
humility.  Was  never  enabled  to  pray  more  fervently 
for  spiritual  blessings — could  wrestle  and  persevere 
therein.  Felt  an  impression  that  this  is  the  last  birth- 
day I  shall  ever  see." 

The  next  day  was  the  Sabbath,  and  he  was  so  far 
spent  with  its  labors,  that  it  was  with  difficulty  he  could 
reach  his  lodgings.  The  night  was  passed  without 
rest ;  and  of  his  increased  weakness  in  the  morning 
"  Satan  was  suffered  to  take  advantage,  and  fill  his 
mind  with  unutterable  anguish."  But  he  ^^  found  re- 
lief in  prayer,  and  felt  strengthened  to  go  on  with 
fresh  vigor  in  the  Christian  course,  exclaiming: — O 
how  true  it  is,  that  to  those  who  have  no  might  he 
increaseth  strength.'^'' 

"  July  29.    I  yesterday  read  an  author  on  the  sub- 


EDWARD   PAYSON.  |  119 

ject  of  human  depravity ;  and,  being  perplexed  with 
some  of  his  objections,  prayed  to  be  guided  to  the  truth 
in  this  doctrine.  Was  now  convinced,  beyond  a  doubt, 
that  in  me  naturally  dwelt  no  good  thing.  O  how  vile, 
how  loathsome  did  my  heart  appear !  I  was  ready  to 
think  I  had  never  known  any  thing  at  all  of  my  own 
character  before,  and  that  there  were  infinite  depths 
in  my  nature  that  I  could  not  see.  In  the  course  of  the 
day  was  favored  with  still  further  discoveries  of  my- 
self, of  true  holiness,  and  of  Christ,  so  that  I  seemed 
never  to  have  known  any  thing  of  religion  before. 

^^  Aug-.  3.  My  blessed  Savior,  compassionating  my 
weakness,  was  pleased  to  make  me  strong  in  himself, 
and  to  favor  me  with  a  most  refreshing  season.  Never 
felt  so  desirous  to  depart  and  be  with  Christ,  and  at 
the  same  time  more  willing  to  live*  and  undergo  all 
hardships  for  his  glory.  Desired  that  my  life  might 
be  spent  in  a  close  walk  with  God." 

His  "  desire  to  become  a  missionary  "  revived  about 
this  time,  but  did  not  ripen  into  a  fixed  purpose,  for 
the  plain  reason,  that  he  could  not  determine  that  such 
\vas  the  will  of  God.  He  submitted  the  decision  of 
the  question  to  his  Master  in  heaven,  praying  "  that 
God  would  do  with  him  as  he  pleased,  in  this  respect." 
'•  Aug.  5.  Was  greatly  perplexed  and  distressed, 
yet  tried  to  keep  myself  in  a  quiet,  waiting  frame,  but 
found  great  difficulty  in  keeping  out  impatient,  mur- 
muring thoughts.  Could  not  determine  whether  my 
being  thus  deserted  was  to  punish  me  for  my  sloth- 
fulness  and  misimprovement  of  time,  or,  only  for  the 
trial  of  my  faith  and  patience.     My  soul  renumbered 

*"  Nor  love  thy  life,  nor  hate  ;  but  what  tli.<n  liv'sf. 
**  Live  well ;  how  long  or  short,  permit  to  heaven." 


120  MEMOIR    OP 

the  bitterness  and  the  gall  which  it  had  once  before 
experienced  on  a  similar  occasion,  and  shuddered  at 
the  idea  of  a  renewal." 

Extracts  might  be  multiplied,  exhibiting  him  as 
"  sinking  in  deep  waters,  where  the  floods  overflow 
him,"  and  then  again  "  surprised  with  a  sudden  visit 
from  his  blessed  Lord,  full  of  sweetness  to  his  soul ;" 
his  mind  at  one  time  so  clogged  in  its  operations  by 
his  burdens,  that  he  "  tried  in  vain  to  write ;"  at  an- 
other, so  buoyant,  that,  "  though  almost  confined  to  his 
bed,  he  is  enabled  to  write  a  whole  sermon  in  a  day." 
This  contrast  is  no  where  more  strikingly  marked 
than  by  the  following  entry,  after  suffering  from 
"melancholy,  which  overwhelmed  him  like  a  thousand 
mountains,  so  that  his  soul  Avas  crushed  under  it :" 

^'- Aug.  15.  Rose  in  a  sweet,  tranquil,  thankful 
frame,  blessing  God  for  the  storm  of  yesterday,  and 
the  calm  to-day.  O,  how  great  is  his  wisdom,  how 
great  his  goodness  I  Had  faith  and  freedom  in  prayer. 
Yesterday  I  thought  God  himself  could  hardly  carry 
me  through.     But  to-day — O,  how  changed  !" 

Before  this  the  reader  may  have  expected  to  learn 
what  influence  his  secret  devotions  had  on  the  services 
of  the  sanctuary,  also  the  result  of  his  public  labors 
m  regard  to  the  people  to  whom  he  ministered.  It  is 
almost  superfluous  to  add,  that  they  were  not  without 
efiect.  Others  "  took  knowledge  of  him  that  he  had 
been  with  Jesus."  The  solemnity  and  unction  of  his 
social  prayers;  the  earnestness  and  variety  of  argu- 
ment with  which  he  pleaded  at  the  throne  of  grace  , 
his  unyielding  importunity  for  the  blessings  which  he 
sought, — had  roused  attention,  and  draAvn  forth  the 
confession  that  "  the  Spirit  of  the  holy  God  was  within 


EDWARD    PAYdON.  121 

him."  "  God  must  help  him,  or  he  could  never  pray 
so,"  said  an  observing  man,  who  had  previously 
professed  no  regard  for  religion.  Herein  he  doubtless 
expressed  the  generally-prevailing  sentiment,  as  Mr. 
Payson  mentions  among  his  trials,  "  well-meant,  but 
injudicious  commendations  " — while  he  renders  "  all 
the  glory  to  God,  who  did  not  suffer  him  to  forget  his 
own  weakness." 

But  besides  the  general  impression  produced  by  his 
preaching,  he  was  instrumental  of  individual  conver- 
sions. More  than  once  he  was  allowed  to  record  an 
event  like  the  folloAving — "  Truly  in  faithfulness  God 
afflicts  me.  Early  this  morning  a  young  man  came 
to  me  under  deep  distress  of  mind,  and  gave  quite 
satisfactory  evidence  that  he  had  experienced  a  real 
change.  He  said  he  had  received  great  benefit  from 
my  preaching.  This  was  a  very  seasonable  cordial  to 
my  fainting  spirits."  Such  events  caused  him  to 
"  retire  to  his  chamber,  overflowing  with  wonder  and 
gratitude  at  God's  unmerited  goodness  to  such  a  mise- 
rable wretch." 

His  faithful  conversation  was  also  blessed  to  the 
family  with  whom  he  resided  ;  and  the  last  Sabbath 
on  which  he  officiated  at  Marlborough,  it  was  his  hap- 
piness to  propound  his  host  and  hostess  as  candidates 
for  admission  into  the  church.  Thus  early  did  God 
honor  his  ministry,  and  give  him  an  earnest  of  the 
power  which  was  to  attend  the  word  dispensed  by  him. 

Enough  has  been  developed  to  show  the  secret  of 
Dr.  Payson's  greatness,  and  of  his  success.  He  laid, 
hold  on  the  divine  strength.  Prayer,  by  which  the 
creature  communes  with  God,  and  obtains  grace  to 
help  in  every  time  of  need,  was  eminently  the  business 

31.  p.  11 


122  MEMOIR   OF 

of  his  life,  and  the  medium  through  which  he  derived 
inexhaustible  supplies.  It  was  not  the  stated  morning 
and  evening  incense  alone  which  he  offered  ;  but  that 
he  had  "much  enlargement,  and  many  sweet  seasons 
of  prayer  during  the  day,"  is  matter  of  frequent  record, 
and  probably  of  still  more  frequent  experience.  Al- 
most incessantly  was  he  conversant  with  spiritual  and 
eternal  things.  His  conversation  was  in  heaven.  He 
also  valued  and  sought  the  intercessions  of  others. 
In  a  letter  to  his  parents,  probably  the  first  he  wrote 
after  he  commenced  preaching,  he  says — "  I  beg  you 
to  pray  for  me  most  earnestly  and  importunately.  I 
seem  to  be  walking  on  a  hair,  and  hardly  dare  go  down 
to  breakfast  or  dinner,  lest  I  should  say  or  do  some- 
thing which  may  disgrace  the  ministry,  or  hurt  the 
cause  of  religion;  so  that  I  shall  never  need  your 
prayers  more  than  noAv."  The  sensibility  to  danger, 
here  so  apparent,  though  it  occasionally  subjected  him 
to  temporary  indecision  and  perplexity,  was,  next  to 
the  promised  support  of  the  Most  High,  his  greatest 
security. 

It  will  also  have  been  seen  that  Mr.  Payson  was 
subject  to  great  extremes  of  feeling — at  one  time, 
"caught  up,"  with  Paul,  where  he  "heard  thmgs  un- 
utterable ;"  at  another,  sunk  to  the  lowest  point  of  de- 
pression, where  existence  was  a  "  burden  too  heavy  for 
him."  Many  have  imagined  his  Christian  career  to 
have  been  one  of  uninterrupted  joy  and  triumph,  and 
such  will,  perhaps,  regret  any  allusion  to  those  sea- 
sons when  "his  soul  was  cast  down  in  him;"  but  to 
keep  these  out  of  sight,  would  be  to  conceal  a  class  of 
ajQfections,  from  which  his  exercises,  language  and 
conduct  received  important  modifications. 


EDWARD    PAYSO.N.  123 

In  judging  of  this  class  of  his  exercises,  it  should 
not  be  forgotten  that  his  health  was  already  under- 
mined ;  his  system  had  lost  much  of  its  elasticity,  and 
encountered  a  shock,  from  the  effects  of  which  it  ne- 
ver afterwards  recovered.  Besides,  he  had  a  consti- 
tutional predisposition  to  melancholy,  which  other 
branches  of  his  family  are  said  to  have  inherited  to  a 
still  more  painful  degree.  His  religion,  instead  of 
being  the  cause  of  his  gloom,  was  his  only  refuge 
from  its  overwhelming  effects.  The  precious  doc- 
trines of  grace,  according  to  his  own  views  of  them, 
alone  kept  him  from  sinking. 

There  is  one  aspect  in  which  all  the  hardships  that 
he  imposed  on  himself — the  ruin  of  his  constitution 
by  abstinence,  night  vigils,  and  extraordinary  exer- 
tion, and  even  all  his  mental  agonies — may  be  view- 
ed with  a  feeling  of  entire  reconciliation.  All  these 
trying  processes,  to  which  he  subjected  his  mind,  may 
justly  be  regarded  as  a  series  of  experiments  on  him- 
self, designed  by  Providence  for  the  good  of  the 
church,  indeed  of  the  human  race.  To  him,  in  the 
exercise  of  his  future  ministry,  they  were  incalcula- 
bly valuable.  The  knowledge  acquired  by  this  pain- 
ful experience  was  not  without  vast  expense  to  him- 
self; but  it  constituted  one  of  his  most  important  qua- 
lifications for  aiding  numerous  other  souls  through  the 
labyrinths  of  error  and  mental  distress.  In  this  way 
he  was  taught  '"how  to  speak  a  word  in  season  to  him 
that  is  weary  " — to  be  "  a  guide  of  the  blind,  a  light  to 
them  that  are  in  darkness,  a  teacher  of  babes."  So 
familiar  did  he  become  with  almost  every  possible 
case  of  conscience,  every  form  of  spiritual  trial  and 
delusion    to   which   either   inquirers    or   established 


124  MEMOIR    OF 

Christians  are  exposed,  that  he  could  instantly  recog- 
nise their  symptoms,  and  apply  the  needed  antidote. 

In  all  his  revolutions  of  feeling,  varied  exercises, 
and  changing  frames,  there  is  discoverable  an  unva- 
rying simplicity  of  purpose.  The  destruction  of  sin, 
and  the  extension  of  the  empire  of  holiness  in  himself 
and  others,  are  the  objects  constantly  before  him.  His 
eye  was  single,  and  directed  to  the  glory  of  God ;  and 
he  longed  for  the  salvation  of  men,  as  the  vi^ork  in 
which  the  divine  glory  eminently  appears.  He  com- 
plains frequently  of  his  pride,  vanity,  and  selfishness 
— qualities,  doubtless,  eminently  congenial  with  his 
unrenewed  nature,  but  which  were  now  evidently 
most  unwelcome  intruders,  and  which  it  Avas  his  con- 
stant grief  that  he  could  not  wholly  dislodge.  Let 
those  who  would  convert  his  full  confessions  into  a 
proof  "  that  he  was  sinful  above  all  men,"  be  remind- 
ed, that,  if  they  were  to  watch  the  motions  of  their 
own  hearts  with  the  same  unrelenting  severity,  they 
might  find  even  greater  abominations  than  any  of 
which  he  complains,  holding  hitherto  undisturbed 
empire  over  their  souls ;  and  not,  as  in  him,  annoy- 
ing, yet  conquered  passions,  which  the  gracious  prin- 
ciple would  in  the  end  wholly  eradicate. 

On  the  18th  of  August  he  took  "  a  very  affectionate 
leave  of  the  family  by  whom  he  had  been  so  kindly 
entertained,"  and  revisited  home,  where  he  spent 
three  days ;  and  then  "  set  out  in  a  violent  rain  for 
North  Andover,"  Mass.  where  he  had  an  engagement 
to  preach,  and  "felt  some  consolation  in  reflecting 
that  he  was  going  on  his  Father's  and  Savior's  bu- 
siness." The  second  day  he  arrived,  "  wet,  wearied, 
and  dejected."     Of  his  performances  on  the  follow- 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  125 

ing  Sabbath  he  says — "I  had  little  assistance  in 
preaching,  and  pleased  neither  the  people  nor  niy- 
self.''''  He  immediately  proceeded  to  the  scene  of  his 
future  labors — a  field  vastly  more  extensive,  and  one 
which  he  was  eminently  fitted  to  occupy. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

Visits  Portland — his  favorable  reception,  and  Ordination, 

On  the  morning  of  Monday,  August  24th,  Mr.  Pay- 
son  proceeded  to  Portland;  his  mmd  absorlied  with 
heavenly  meditations  on  the  road,  and  praying  and  re- 
newing his  covenant  with  God  at  his  resting-places. 
Stop  where  he  might,  he  was  sure  to  find  or  to  make 
the  place  a  Bethel ;  and  while  the  solemnity  of  his  de- 
vot'ons  resembled  that  of  the  patriarch's  on  his  way  to 
Padan-aram,  his  faith  realized  what  that  patriarch  saw 
in  vision,  and  found  an  open  way  of  communication 
between  earth  and  heaven.    Thus  he  journeyed, 

"Prayer  all  liis  business,  all  his  pleasure  praise." 

He  arrived  on  the  morning  of  the  third  day,  entered 
upon  the  appropriate  duties  of  his  calling  with  the 
most  exemplary  diligence  and  energy,  and  the  effects 
were  almost  immediately  visible.  Such  was  the  atten- 
tion excited  by  his  preaching,  that  he  seems  to  have 
regarded  himself  as  in  great  danger  of  thinking  more 
highly  of  himself  than  he  ought  to  think,  and  to  hav 
M.  p.  U* 


126  MEMOIR    OF 

brought  all  his  spiritual  forces  to  bear  against  this  pro- 
pensity. With  reference  to  this,  he  observed  frequent 
seasons  of  humiliation,  and  oftener  renewed  the  con- 
secration of  himself  and  his  talents  to  God.  It  was  the 
burden  of  his  secret  prayers,  th»t  he  might  be  delivered 
from  pride,  from  self-seeking,  from  preaching  himself, 
instead  of  Christ  Jesus  the  Lord. 

"  Sept.  6.  Heard  my  performances  much  commend- 
ed ;  and,  fearing  lest  I  should  feel  puffed  up,  I  with- 
drew, and  prayed  earnestly  that  I  might  be  preserved 
from  it.  And  God  was  pleased  to  assist  me  in  a  most 
wonderful  and  unusual  manner  in  pleading,  not  only 
for  that  and  other  mercies,  but  in  renewing  covenant 
with  him,  and  praising  him  for  all  his  mercies.  Never 
felt  more  gratitude,  more  humility,  more  love  to  God 
and  benfVolence  to  man,  than  at  this  time.  Indulged 
some  hopes  that  God  would  pour  out  his  Spirit,  but 
hardly  expected  it.  Saw  that  all  the  mercies  I  received 
were  bestowed  for  the  sake  of  my  Lord  Jesus  alone ; 
and  that  in  myself  I  was  far  more  deserving  of  hell 
than  of  all  that  happiness.  Could  not  praise  God  as  I 
wished,  but  my  soul  panted,  and  almost  fainted  with 
ardor  of  desire  to  glorify  him,  and  be  wholly  devoted 
to  his  service. 

"  Sept.  14.  Read  Baxter  on  Pride.  Was  almost  over- 
whelmed to  see  how  much  I  have  in  my  heart.  Could 
hardly  refrain  from  despairing  of  ever  being  humble." 

In  a  letter  to  his  father,  written  a  few  days  after  this, 
he  complains  of  himself  in  the  following  strain  : 

"  I  almost  despair  of  making  any  improvement  in 
this  world.  God  keeps  loading  me  with  one  blessing 
on  another,  but  I  cannot  grow  any  more  grateful.  I 
cannot  feel  less  proud,  less  selfish,  less  worldly-mind- 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  127 

ed.  O,  if  God  by  his  Spirit  did  not  prevent  me,  and 
still  in  a  manner  force  me  to  keep  striving  almost 
against  my  will,  I  should  give  up  in  despair.  It  makes 
no  difference — let  me  labor  ever  so  much,  and  feel  ever 
so  lively  while  alone,  the  moment  I  go  into  the  pulpit 
I  am  as  dead  and  stupid  as  a  post,  and  have  no  realiz- 
ing sense  of  divine  things.  The  meeting-house  is  the 
grave  of  every  thing  good,  and  the  place  where  cor- 
ruption always  gets  the  mastery.  Sometimes  it  seems 
impossible  that  it  should  be  so.  I  set  out  from  home 
so  strong,  so  raised  above  the  world,  with  so  much 
zeal  for  God,  and  so  much  compassion  for  poor,  pe- 
rishing sinners,  that  I  cannot  help  hoping  it  is  going 
to  be  better  with  me.  But  the  moment  I  begin  it  is  ail 
gone  !  When  I  seem  to  be  much  engaged,  and  the 
people  think  I  am  all  on  fire,  I  fear  that  God  sees  my 
heart  like  a  mere  block  of  ice.  If  there  are  any  who 
can  look  back  with  pleasure  on  a  life  well  spent,  I  can 
hardly  hope  that  I  am  a  Christian,  or  that  I  ever  shall 
be  one ;  for  never  shall  I  be  able  to  do  that.  Adieu, 
my  dearest  parents :  do  continue  to  pray  for  me,  for  I 
am  walking  on  ice,  or,  as  the  prophet  says,  "  in  slip- 
pery places  in  darkness." 

Mr.  Payson's  situation  was  at  this  time  truly  critical 
and  dangerous.  His  reception  as  a  preacher  was  flat- 
tering almost  beyond  example.  Not  one  man  in  a  thou- 
sand can  bear  human  applause  uninjured.  "  Wo  unto 
you,"  said  Christ  to  his  disciples,  "  when  all  men  shall 
speak  well  of  you."  The  most  dreadful  part  of  this  wo 
is  that  which  falls  upon  one's  spiritual  interests.  Mr. 
Payson  had  scarcely  been  six  weeks  in  Portland  before 
overtures  were  made  to  him,  by  three  respective  con- 
gregations, to  become  their  teacher ;  and  there  was  also 


128  MEMOIR    OF 

a  plan  agitated  to  build  him  a  new  meeting-house.  Ap- 
plications from  neighboring  churches,  and  likewise 
from  abroad,  were  also  frequent.  The  letters  which  he 
wrote  to  his  parents,  at  this  period,  contain  interesting 
allusions  to  his  circumstances  : 

"  Portland,  Sept.  12,  1807. 
•*  My  DEAREST  Parents, 

"  When  I  came  here  I  could  not  help  indulging  a 
secret  hope  that  I  should  be  so  favored  as  to  see  some 
happy  effects  resulting  from  it.  I  know  not,  however, 
whether  it  arose  so  high  as  hope ;  it  was,  perhaps,  ra- 
ther a  wish.  Whether  this  wish  will  in  any  degree  be 
gratified,  is  at  present  uncertain.  The  people  seem  to 
rouse  themselves  up,  and  stare,  and  hardly  know  what 
to  make  of  it.  They,  however,  appear  to  exhibit  less 
enmity  and  ill  will  than  I  expected.  Some  of  the  prin- 
cipal men,  who  are  not  suspected  of  being  very  friend- 
ly to  religion,  say,  as  I  am  informed,  that,  to  be  sure, 
my  sermons  are  rather  hot,  but  they  are  convinced  no 
other  kind  of  preaching  would  ever  do  any  good.  Others 
say,  it  cuts  up  all  their  own  foundation,  and  all  their 
hopes  of  heaven ;  but  they  think  it  a  duty  to  support 
these  doctrines,  because  they  are  true.  The  congrega- 
tion is  very  solemn  and  attentive ;  but  I  dare  not  yet 
hope  for  any  lasting  effects.  Some  are  displeased,  and 
have  left  the  meeting ;  but  there  are  three  come  from 
other  meetings  for  one  who  goes  away.  The  power  of 
novelty,  however,  is  great,  and  when  that  is  over,  I  ex- 
pect there  will  be  less  attention,  and  less  crowded 
meetings.'* 

♦  ♦♦*** 

"  lunderstand  there  is  quite  a  reviyal  of  religion  at 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  129 

North  Yarmouth,  about  a  dozen  miles  from  this  place. 
There  have  already  been  two  or  three  there,  and  they 
seem  to  be  remarkably  favored.  One  memorable  in- 
stance, which  has  lately  taken  place,  I  have  just  heard. 
Three  females,  the  wives  of  three  sea-captams  who 
were  all  at  sea  in  different  parts  of  the  world,  were 
deeply  impressed,  and,  after  severe  convictions,  ob- 
tained comfort.  Just  about  the  same  time  all  their 
absent  husbands  were  converted  at  sea.  The  wives 
meanwhile  were  anxious  for  the  spiritual  welfare  of 
their  husbands,  and  the  husbands  were  no  less  con- 
cerned for  their  wives.  Judge  what  a  happy  meeting 
they  must  have  had  when  they  found  what  God  had 
done  for  each  other  during  their  separation.  The  at- 
tention is  still  increasing,  and  there  have  been  about 
thirty  added  to  the  church." 

"  September  19. 
"  I  have  been  ill  a  week  of  the  influenza,  which 
attacked  me  pretty  severely.  It  seems  as  if  it  was 
sent  to  afford  a  fresh  opportunity  for  displaying  the 
unwearied  care  and  kindness  of  our  heavenly  Father 
in  raising  up  friends  whenever  I  want  them.  In  this 
case  he  has  provided  me  a  nurse  and  a  mother  in  the 
woman  who  presides  over  the  family  in  Mrs.  K.'s  ab- 
sence. She  has  been  doubting  respecting  her  state, 
and  her  right  to  join  the  church,  for  some  years  ;  and 
was  so  thankful  because  I  conversed  with  her  on  these 
subjects,  that  she  was  ready  to  kill  me  with  kindness. 
In  addition  to  this,  I  have  been  overwhelmed  with 
preserves,  jellies,  &c.  from  all  parts.  Some  have  sent 
them  in,  from  whom  I  should  have  little  expected  it. 
It  seems  as  if  God  were  putting  it  to  trial,  whether 


130 


MEMOIR   OP 


my  insensible  heart  can  be  wrous^ht  upon  by  mercies. 
I  fear  the  result  of  the  trial  Avill  be,  that  nothing  but 
severe  jud^i^ments  will  answer. 

"I  sometimes  think  it  strange,  that,  when  God  is  so 
ready  to  bestow  mercies,  he  does  not  enable  us  to  re- 
ceive them  with  more  gratitude,  and  why  he  seems 
less  ready  to  give  us  grace  to  conquer  pride  and  self. 
Pray  for  me,  my  dear  parents,  that  I  may  be  enabled 
to  conquer  them." 

"  September  26. 
"I  am,  and  have  been  for  some  days,  in  a  great 
dilemma.  Last  Monday  I  had  an  application  to  preach 
for  a  new  congregation  here,  which  Mr.  S.  the  mis- 
sionary has  lately  drawn  together.  They  have  heard 
me  at  Mr.  K.'s,  and  intimated  that,  if  I  would  come, 
they  should  probably  settle  me,  as  one  man  had  offered 
a  hundred  pounds  to  the  society  on  that  condition,  and 
thirty  more  had  offered  to  subscribe  for  pews.  On 
Tuesday  I  had  an  invitation  from  Westboro'  to  come 
immediately,  and  another  from  Gorham.  They  have 
also  applied  to  me  to  come  to  Dr.  Deane's  parish,  and 
preach  for  them ;  and  now,  this  morning,  Mr.  Kellogg 
has  a  letter  from  Portsmouth,  wishing  me  to  come 
there  immediately.  On  the  other  hand,  Mr.  K.  in- 
sists upon  it  that  I  ought  to  stay  with  him  through 
the  month  of  October.  There  seems  to  be  some  at- 
tention excited,  and  two  persons  have  been  convinced, 
and  I  hope  converted,  since  I  have  been  here.  It  is, 
I  find,  Mr.  K.'s  plan,  if  I  should  prove  popular  enough, 
to  have  a  new  society,  and  unite  it  with  his  own  in 
such  a  manner  as  to  have  one  parish  in  two  societies, 
and  two  ministers  to  preach  in  each  house  alternately. 


EDWARD.  PAYSON.  131 

"  Now,  my  dear  parents,  what  shall  I  do  ?  I  am  so 
much  afraid  that  I  shall  be  left  to  lean  to  my  own  un- 
derstanding, that  I  have  no  comfort.  I  wish  to  go  to 
Portsmouth,  because  it  is  on  my  way  home  ;  but  prin- 
cipally because  the  society  there  is  in  a  bad  state,  and 
in  great  danger  of  breaking  up  and  going  to  the  Uni- 
versalists.  On  the  other  hand,  there  seems  to  be  a 
door  opened  for  great  usefulness  here ;  and  Providence 
has,  in  some  measure,  owned  my  labors,  and  the  peo- 
ple seem  very  anxious  to  have  me  stay.  If  one  could 
only  hear  the  Spirit  as  a  voice  behind  him,  saying, 
"  This  is  the  way,  walk  in  it,"  it  seems  duty  would 
he  easily  discovered.  I  know  that  there  is  no  need 
of  being  uneasy,  when  we  have  done  the  best  we  can 
to  discover  the  path  of  duty :  but  there  is  so  much  self- 
seeking  in  every  thing  I  do,  that  I  cannot  be  sure  I 
have  sincerely  sought  to  discover  the  path  of  duty.  It 
is  such  a  dreadful  thing  to  be  left  to  follow  one's  own 
guidance.     My  dear  father,  do  write  to  me." 

The  following  sentences  from  his  diary  will  be  re- 
garded as  a  curiosity  by  those  who  are  acquainted 
with  Dr.  Payson's  eminence  as  a  ready  speaker. 

"  Sept.  25.  In  the  evening  went  to  a  conference, 
and  for  the  first  time  expounded  extempore.  Made  out 
poorly." 

His  rapidly  rising  fame,  and  the  flattering  attentions 
paid  him  as  a  preacher,  injurious  as  they  can  hardly 
fail  to  be,  did  not  divert  Mr.  Payson  from  the  great  ob- 
ject of  the  ministry  of  reconciliation.  If  his  desire  for 
.personal  holiness  was  exceeded  by  any  other,  it  was 
by  the  desire  of  the  salvation  of  sinners. 

"  Sept.  27.  Sab.  Was  favored  with  great  and  un- 
usual assistance  both  parts  of  the  day,  and  the  people 


132  '  MEMOIR   OF 

were  remarkably  serious  and  attentive.  Came  home 
overwhelmed  with  a  sense  of  the  astonishing  good- 
ness of  God.  Felt  grateful,  humble,  and  contrite,  and 
was  enabled  to  ascribe  all  the  glory  to  God.  In  the 
evening  was  favored  with  great  faith  and  fervency  in 
prayer.  It  seemed  as  if  God  would  deny  me  nothing, 
and  I  wrestled  for  multitudes  of  souls,  and  could  not 
help  hoping  there  would  be  some  revival  here. 

"  Sept.  28.  Found  that  my  labors  have  not  been 
altogether  without  effect.  Was  favored  with  the  great- 
est degree  of  freedom  and  fervency  in  interceding  for 
others.  I  seemed  to  travail  in  birth  with  poor  sinners, 
and  could  not  help  hoping  that  God  is  about  to  do 
something  for  his  glory  and  the  good  of  souls. 

"  Sept.  29.  Was  considerably  affected  with  a  view 
of  the  awful  condition  of  sinners,  and  was  favored 
with  some  freedom  in  praying  for  them.  I  know  not 
what  to  think,  but  at  present  there  seem  to  be  some 
indications  in  Providence  that  this  is  to  be  my  station 
in  the  vineyard.  I  desire  to  bless  God  that  he  scarcely 
suffers  me  either  to  hope  or  fear  the  event,  and  gives 
me  resignation  to  whatever  he  may  appoint. 

"  Sept.  30.  Felt  much  of  a  dependent,  confiding, 
child-like  spirit.  God  is  doing  great  things  for  me. 
I  never  enjoyed  such  a  season  before  as  I  have  for 
these  three  days  past.  My  heart  overflows  with  love 
and  thankfulness  to  God,  and  pity  for  poor  sinners. 

"  Oct.  4.  Went  to  meeting  with  more  of  a  solemn 
frame  than  usual.  Was  greatly  assisted,  and  the  con- 
gregation was  apparently  very  solemn  and  devout. 
Was  ready  to  sink,  to  see  how  easily  the  impression 
seemed  to  wear  off. 

^^Oct.  7.  Visited  two  persons  under  conviction;  con- 


EDWARD   PAYSON.  133 

versed  and  prayed  with  them.  Had  a  most  refreshing 
season  in  secret  prayer.  Renewed  covenant  with  God. 
My  soul  seemed  to  dilate  and  expand  with  happiness. 
All  the  stores  of  divine  grace  were  opened,  and  I  took 
freely  for  myself  and  others.  Was  assisted  to  plead 
for  poor  sinners. 

"  Oct.  8.  Was  favored  with  clear  displays  of  the 
divine  glory  this  morning,  and  was  enabled  to  rejoice 
in  God  with  joy  unspeakable.  Felt  sweetly  humbled 
and  resigned  to  every  thing  which  should  befall  me. 
In  the  afternoon  preached  a  lecture,  and  was  left  dry 
and  barren.  In  the  evening  preached  another,  and 
was  very  greatly  assisted.  Came  home  humbled  in 
the  dust  under  some  stirrings  of  spiritual  pride,  which 
I  could  not  repress.  Was  favored  with  a  most  refresh- 
ing season  in  secret  prayer.  Felt  that  love  which 
casteth  out  fear,  and  hung  on  the  bosom  of  my  God 
with  inexpressible  pleasure.  The  Scriptures  too  were 
exceedingly  sweet.  Had  been,  in  some  perplexity  re- 
specting the  path  of  duty  ;  but  was  helped  to  roll  the 
whole  burden  upon  Him.  \ 

"  Oct.  9.  Was  visited  by  a  minister  who  heard  me 
preach  last  evening,  and  received  many  valuable  hints 
from  him  respecting  my  feelings  in  prayer  and  preach- 
ing. 

"  Oct.  11.  Never  was  in  such  an  agony  before  in 
wrestling  for  mercies,  especially  in  behalf  of  poor  souls, 
and  for  a  work  of  religion  in  this  place.  My  soul  seem- 
ed as  if  it  would  leave  the  body  and  mount  to  heaven 
in  the  most  ardent  desires  for  their  salvation.  Went  by 
invitation  to  spend  the  evening  in  an  irreligious  family ; 
found  several  assembled,  and,  to  my  very  great  but 
pleasing  surprise,  the  conversation  took  a  very  serious, 

M.  p.  12 


134  MEMOIR   OF 

religious  turn.  Came  home,  hoping  that  God  was  on 
the  point  of  doing  something  in  this  place,  but  was  so 
worn  out  that  I  had  little  life  in  prayer. 

"  Oct.  16.  Church  meeting — a  profitable  and  re- 
freshing time.  Some  new  persons  are  awakened ; 
Christians  are  stirred  up,  and  there  is  every  reason  to 
hope  God  is  on  the  point  of  appearing  for  us. 

"  Oct.  17.  Was  enabled,  in  some  measure,  to  mourn 
over  my  pride  and  selfishness,  unbelief,  and  hardness 
of  heart.  Having  last  evening  proposed  to  the  church 
that  we  should  spend  an  hour  this  evening  in  prayer, 
separately,  for  the  outpouring  of  the  Spirit,  attempted 
to  pray,  but  feared  my  motives  were  selfish.  How- 
ever, prayed  that  God's  people  might  not  be  ashamed 
on  my  account. 

"  Was  informed  that  the  church  and  congregation 
had  given  me  a  unanimous  call.  I  know  not  what 
Providence  intends  by  this.  Went  and  spread  the 
matter  before  God,  and  entreated  him  to  overrule  all 
things  to  his  own  glory. 

"  Oct.  19.  Spent  the  whole  day  in  conversing  with 
persons  exercised  in  their  minds.  In  the  evening  vi- 
sited and  prayed  with  a  number  of  persons  who  met 
for  that  purpose. 

"  Oct.  20.  Felt  something  of  the  constraining  influ- 
ence of  the  love  of  Christ.  For  some  nights  past 
have  been  laboring  in  my  sleep  with  poor  souls.  Felt 
strong  in  the  Lord  and  in  the  power  of  his  might.  In 
the  afternoon  went  to  visit  two  persons  in  distress  for 
their  sins.  In  the  evening  preached  a  lecture  extem- 
pore. Was  not  much  assisted  myself,  but  what  was 
said  seemed  to  come  with  power.  Many  were  in 
tears,  and  all  seemed  stirred  up;   so  that,  though   I 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  135 

went  crashed  down  under  discouragement,  I  came 
back  rejoicing. 

"  Oct.  22.  Began  to  feel  more  clear  respecting  my 
compliance  with  the  call  I  have  received. 

"  Oct.  23.  Was  left  to  murmur  and  feel  impatient, 
and  my  proud,  unhumbled  heart  rose  against  God  ;  but 
he  was  graciously  pleased  to  touch  my  heart,  and 
bring  me  on  my  knees  before  him,  and  thus  I  obtained 
pardon.  In  the  evening  attended  a  conference,  and 
preached.  Was  very  much  shut  up,  but  found  it  was 
a  most  refreshing  season  to  many  of  God's  people,  so 
that  I  was  astonished  to  see  how  God  could  work  by 
the  most  feeble  means. 

"  Oct.  24.  Went  to  visit  a  man  almost  in  despair. 
He  talked  like  a  Christian,  but  was  in  dreadful  dis- 
tress, and  rejected  all  comfort.  Prayed  with  him, 
but  in  vain. 

"  Oct.  25.  Visited  and  prayed  with  a  sick  woman. 
Found  her  and  her  husband  under  strong  convictions. 
In  the  evening  was  visited  by  persons  under  concern 
of  mind,  and  conversed  with  them. 

"  Oct.  27.  In  the  evening  attended  a  conference, 
and  preached  to  a  crowded  and  solemn  audience. 
Saw  the  hand  of  God  evidently  appearing  in  it,  and 
came  home  strengthened,  though  I  had  gone  much 
cast  down. 

"  Oct.  28.  Felt  some  gratitude  and  humility  this 
morning.  Wondered  how  God  could  choose  such  a 
worthless  wretch  to  bestow  such  favors  upon.  Dined 
with  *  *  *  ,  a  lawyer,  and  had  much  religious  conver- 
sation with  him,  with  which  he  seemed  much  affected. 
In  the  evening  met  a  number  who  were  under  seri- 
ous impressipns.     Conversed  and  prayed  with  them. 


136  MEMOIR    OF 

"  Oct.  29.  Was  greatly  drawn  out  in  prayer  for  a 
continuance  of  God's  presence,  and  for  myself  and 
some  particular  friends.  Spent  the  day  in  visiting 
a  number  of  persons  who  were  under  concern,  and 
found  that  some  who  had  been  dear  to  my  heart,  and 
who  I  could  hardly  hope  were  under  conviction,  ap- 
peared to  have  met  with  a  real  change.  Was  over- 
whelmed with  wonder,  love,  and  gratitude,  at  the 
goodness  of  God ;  but,  as  an  offset  to  this,  was  in- 
formed of  some  injurious  observations,  and  was,  more- 
over, harassed  and  almost  distracted  with  doubts  where 
Providence  called  me  to  settle;  but  was  able,  at  length, 
to  cast  the  burden  upon  the  Lord." 

On  the  30th  of  October  he  set  out  on  a  journey  to 
his  father's,  taking  Portsmouth  on  his  way,  where  he 
preached  on  the  Sabbath,  and  received  a  request  from 
the  people  to  tarry  among  them,  which  he  felt  it  his 
duty  to  decline.  He  reached  home  November  3,  and 
spent  the  following  day  in  conversing  with  his  friend  : 
"  Consulted  them  respecting  my  call,  and  found  that 
they  were  unanimous  in  advising  me  to  accept  the 
call  of  Mr.  Kellogg's  congregation.  Rejoiced  to  see 
my  path  made  plain  before  me." 

"  Nov.  6.  Parted  from  my  friends  with  prayer,  and 
set  out  for  Portsmouth  in  a  violent  storm,  which  con- 
tinued most  of  the  day.  Was  harassed  with  storms 
within,  part  of  the  way,  bat  afterwards  was  calm. 

"  Nov.  8.  Was  favored  with  a  most  sweet,  refresh- 
ing season,  before  meeting,  in  secret  prayer.  Preached 
three  times,  the  last  to  a  crowded  and  solemn  assem- 
bly. Was  invited  to  stay  and  preach  on  probation, 
but  was  obliged  to  decline. 


EDWARD   PAYSON.  137 

"  Nov.  9.  Rode  to  Portland.  Was  favored  on  the 
road  with  very  clear  manifestations  of  God's  love. 
Felt  most  ardent  emotions  of  gratitude,  with  full  reso- 
lutions to  devote  myself  to  the  service  of  God.  Was 
overwhelmed  with  a  sense  of  his  mercies  and  my  own 
unworthiness. 

"  Nov.  10.  Had  a  deep  sense  of  the  difficulty  and 
importance  of  the  gospel  ministry,  and  of  my  own 
utter  insufficiency  for  it.  Was  ready  to  sink  under 
it,  till  in  some  measure  relieved  by  a  view  of  the  ful- 
ness and  sufficiency  of  Christ.  Moses  and  Jeremiah 
were  very  encouraging  examples. 

"  Nov.  13.  In  the  evening  attended  a  church  con- 
ference and  preached.  Divine  truth,  though  in  an 
humble  garb,  came  with  great  power,  and  the  hearers 
seemed  much  affected. 

"  Nov.  15.  Preached  and  read  my  affirmative  answer 
to  the  call.  Was  favored  with  liberty,  and  the  people 
seemed  to  be  affected. 

"  Nov.  17.  Visited  a  sick  man ;  found  him  partly 
deranged,  clasping  a  Bible  to  his  breast,  which  he 
would  not  suffer  to  be  taken  from  him. 

"  Nov.  30.  Very  unwell.  From  some  symptoms 
feel  apprehensive  that  my  cough  may  terminate  in  a 
consumption ;  but  the  thought  is  not  disagreeable. 
The  only  thing  painful  about  it  is  the  pain  it  would 
give  my  parents. 

"  Dec.  1.  Had  a  sleepless,  painful  night,  but, 
through  divine  goodness,  was  kept  patient,  and  even 
cheerful.     Was  very  sick  in  the  morning. 

Dec.  3.  Still  quite  unwell,  but  had  a  sight  of  my 
necessities,  and  was  helped  to  cry  out  for  assistance. — 
P.  M.  Had  a  sweet  season  in  prayer.  Could  pray  sin- 

M.  p.  12* 


138  MEMOIR   OF 

cerely  that  others  might  be  exalted  above  me  in  gifts 
and  graces,  and  that  souls  might  be  converted,  let  who 
would  be  the  instrument.  Felt  weaned  from  the  world 
and  resigned  to  whatever  might  befall  me. 

"  Dec.  4.  Extremely  weak.  Am  convinced  that  I 
cannot  live  many  years,  if  many  months.  Went  out 
to  see  a  sick  person,  and  took  more  cold. 

"  Dec.  7.  Rose  early  ;  was  in  a  cloudy  kind  of 
frame.  Visited  and  prayed  with  a  number  of  sick 
people.  In  the  evening  was  favored  with  a  deep  view 
of  the  importance  and  magnitude  of  the  ministry,  and 
had  much  freedom  in  crying  for  grace  to  help. 

"  Dec.  9.  Though  I  have  less  sensible  comfort, 
faith  seems  to  be  in  exercise,  and  I  will  still  trust  in 
God,  though  he  slay  me. 

"  Dec.  10.  Was  seized  with  the  symptoms  of  a  fever. 

'"'•Dec  11.  Begin  to  think  seriously  that  my  time 
is  short.  My  lungs  appear  to  be  deeply  affected,  and 
the  result  may  be  fatal. 

"  Dec.  12.  Had  a  melting  season  in  prayer  this 
morning.  Felt  viler  than  the  vilest.  Spent  the  even- 
ing with  my  father,  who  came  to  attend  the  ordination- 

"  Dec.  14.  My  body  and  mind  seemed  alike  weak 
and  incapable  of  exertion.  My  cough  increases,  and 
bids  fair  to  terminate  in  a  consumption. 

^''Dec.  15.  Rose  extremely  unwell,  and  continued  so 
during  the  day.  Could  do  nothing.  In  the  evening 
tried  to  pray,  but  was  soon  interrupted  by  weakness 
and  lassitude. 

"  Dec.  16.  Ordination.  Rose  very  early,  and  re- 
newed my  covenant  Avith  God,  taking  him  for  my 
portion,  and  giving  myself  up  lo  him  for  the  work  of 
the  gospel  ministry.     Had  considerable  assistance  in 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  139 

this,  and  in  seeki^ig  ministerial  qualifications  ;  but  my 
strength  failed.  Felt  in  something  of  a  quiet,  happy, 
dependent  frame  during  the  public  services,  especially 
during  the  ordaining  prayer." 

It  is  peculiarly  gratifying  to  peruse  such  a  record  as 
this  last  paragraph  contains,  of  the  state  of  his  mind 
on  this  most  solemn  and  eventful  occasion.  That  a 
mind  so  highly  susceptible,  and  so  frequently  borne 
down  to  the  very  dust  by  its  overwhelming  sense  ot 
ministerial  responsibility,  should  be  preserved  in  this 
"  quiet,  happy,  dependent  frame,"  while  in  the  act  ol 
assuming  the  most  weighty  and  momentous  of  all 
trusts  ever  committed  to  man — of  consummating  that 
sacred  connection  which  was  to  affect  the  everlasting 
weal  or  wo  of  numerous  undying  souls — can  be  ascrib- 
ed to  nothing  but  the  special  favor  of  God.  It  should  be 
noticed  in  honor  of  His  faithfulness,  who  will  not  de- 
sert his  devoted  servants  in  any  trying  emergency.  In 
anticipation  of  this  crisis,  and  under  the  responsibili- 
ties of  the  labors  which  were  conducting  him  to  it,  he 
had  habitually  cast  his  burden  upon  the  Lord;  and  by 
the  Lord  was  that  burden  sustained.  His  mind  was 
kept  in  peace,  for  it  Avas  stayed  on  God. 

"  A  man's  heart  deviseth  his  way,  but  the  Lord  di- 
recteth  his  steps."  Mr.  Payson  went  to  Portland  with 
no  expectation,  probably,  of  making  that  his  permanent 
residence,  but  merely  to  supply,  temporarily,  Mr.  Kel- 
logg's  pulpit.  Mr.  K.  undoubtedly  had  a  further  de- 
sign in  procuring  his  assistance,  even  from  the  first ; 
but  its  accomplishment  was  suspended  on  circum- 
stances yet  to  be  developed,  and  it  could  not,  there- 
fore, be  properly  disclosed.  But  when,  on  experiment, 
he  saw  the  young  preacher's  labors  so  well  received 


140  MEMOIR   OF 

by  the  people,  and  so  evidently  blessed,  he  spared  no 
endeavors  to  retain  his  valuable  services,  which  he 
showed  himself  willing  to  do  at  the  expense  of  any 
reasonable  sacrifice. 

The  ordination  sermon  was  preached  by  his  vene- 
rable father,  founded  on  1  Tim.  5  :  22,  Lay  hands  sud- 
denly on  no  onan,  neither  be  partaker  of  other  men''s 
sins,  and  well  illustrated  the  apostle's  "  caution  against 
introducing  persons  suddenly  into  the  ministry,  and 
the  reason  with  which  that  caution  is  enforced." 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


His  concern  for  his  jiock — reverse  in  his  temporal  prospects— 
is  taken  from  his  work  by  sickness. 

Mr.  Payson  had  already  exhibited  an  interest  in  the 
welfare  of  souls,  and  a  desire  for  their  salvation,  so 
great  as  to  seem  almost  incapable  of  increase  ;  but,  as 
soon  as  the  pastoral  relation  was  consummated,  he  re- 
garded those  committed  to  his  oversight  with  an  ap- 
propriating, an  endearing  love,  which  identified  their 
interests  and  happiness  with  his  own. 

"  Dec.  17,  1807.  Was  favored  with  freedom  and  as- 
sistance in  writing  and  prayer,  and  felt  a  strong  love 
for  the  people  of  my  charge.  In  the  evening  attended 
a  meeting  of  those  who  are  under  concern,  and  had 
some  assistance. 

"  Dec.  18.  Felt  in  a  sweet,  dependent  frame,  and 
had  liberty  to  cast  myself  and  parish  upon  God. 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  141 

"  Dec.  19.  Awoke  twice,  after  a  day  of  excessive  fa- 
tigue, drenched  in  a  profuse  sweat,  and  concluded  that 
my  time  was  short. 

"  Dec.  20.  Sabbath.  Extremely  weak.  Felt  as  if  I 
could  not  preach.  In  the  afternoon  preached  an  occa- 
sional sermon,  and  was  wonderfully  carried  through. 
Blessed  be  God ! 

"  Dec.  21.  Had  a  sweet  season  in  prayer.  My  soul 
felt  strong  in  the  Lord,  and  in  the  power  of  his  might. 
I  longed  to  spend  and  be  spent  in  his  service,  and  won- 
dered at  his  astonishing  goodness  to  such  an  unworthy 
wretch.  Spent  the  whole  day  in  visiting,  Avith  some 
profit  and  pleasure.  In  the  evening  talked  to  a  num- 
ber of  people  on  the  nature  of  religion.  After  return- 
ing, found  myself  much  exhausted.  Feel  convinced 
that  I  am  in  a  consumption,  and  may  as  well  die  as 
cease  my  exertions." 

His  illness  continued  severe  for  several  days,  so  that 
he  was  directed  by  his  physician  to  keep  within.  He 
enjoyed,  on  the  whole,  much  quietness  and  resigna- 
tion, but  says,  "  I  longed  to  be  abroad  among  my  peo- 
ple." Dec.  26,  ten  days  after  his  ordination,  he  expec- 
torated blood,  and  "  viewed  it  as  his  death-warrant, 
but  felt  tolerably  calm  and  resigned."  Three  days  later, 
however,  he  is  found  preaching  an  evening  lecture. 

The  calamities  occasioned  by  the  aggressions  of  fo- 
reign belligerents,  and  by  the  restrictions  imposed  on 
commerce  by  our  own  government,  fell  at  this  time 
with  peculiar  weight  upon  the  inhabitants  of  Portland. 
The  darkest  season  through  which  the  United  States 
have  passed  since  their  independence,  had  now  com- 
menced. The  distresses  of  the  times  are  the  subject 
of  frequent  allusion  by  Mr.  Payson  in  his  diary,  and 
are  thus  described  in  a  letter  to  his  parents,  dated 


143  MEMOIR   OF 

"  Portland,  Dec.  28,  1807. 
"  When  my  dear  father  was  here,  he  observed  that 
my  prospects  were  almost  too  happy  for  this  world. 
They  were  so,  it  appears ;  for  they  are  now  as  unfa- 
vorable, humanly  speaking,  as  they  were  then  flatter- 
ing. The  prospect  of  war  has  produced  here  such  a 
scene  of  wretchedness  as  I  never  before  witnessed.  A 
large  number  of  the  most  wealthy  merchants  have  al- 
ready failed,  and  numbers  more  are  daily  following, 
so  that  v/e  are  threatened  with  universal  bankruptcy. 
Two  failures  alone  have  thrown  at  least  three  hun- 
dred persons,  besides  sailors,  out  of  employ ;  and  you 
may  hence  conceive,  in  some  measure,  the  distress 
which  the  whole  number  must  occasion.  The  poor- 
house  is  already  full,  and  hundreds  are  yet  to  be  pro- 
vided for,  who  have  depended  on  their  own  labor  for 
daily  bread,  and  who  have  neither  the  means  of  sup- 
porting themselves  here,  nor  of  removing  into  the 
country.  Many,  who  have  been  brought  up  in  afflu- 
ence, are  now  dependent  on  the  cold  courtesy  of  credi- 
tors for  a  protection  from  the  inclemency  of  the  sea- 
son. These  things,  however,  are  but  the  beginning  of 
sorrows.    As  soon  as  the  news  of  these  failures  reach 

,  every  man  there,  who  has  a  hundred  dollars 

owing  to  him  in  Portland,  will  send  down  to  secure  it; 
and  the  general  stagnation  of  business  is  such,  that  a 
man  who  is  possessed  of  ten  thousand  dollars,  in  real 
or  personal  estate,  may  not  be  able  to  answer  a  de- 
mand of  five  hundred,  though  it  were  to  save  him  from 
ruin.  If  these  times  continue,  nine  tenths  of  the  peo- 
ple here  will  be  scattered  to  the  four  winds.  All  con- 
fidence is  lost ;  no  man  will  trust  his  neighbor;  but 
every  one  takes  even  his  brother  '  by  the  throat,  say- 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  143 

ing,  Pay  me  that  thou  owest.'  But  I  cannot  describe, 
and  I  doubt  whether  you  can  conceive,  of  the  distress 
we  are  in. 

"  And  now  you  will,  perhaps,  be  grieved  at  this 
sudden  blast  of  all  my  fine  prospects,  and  cry,  '  Poor 
Edward  !'  But  you  never  had  more  reason  to  rejoice 
on  my  behalf,  and  to  cry,  '  Rich  Edward  !'  than  now; 
for,  blessed  be  God,  my  portion  does  not  stand  on  such 
tottering  foundations  as  to  be  shaken  by  these  commo- 
tions. My  dear  parents,  my  dear  sister,  do  not  feel  one 
emotion  of  sorrow  on  my  account,  but  rather  join  with 
me  in  blessing  God  that  he  keeps  me  quiet,  resigaed, 
and  even  happy,  in  the  midst  of  these  troubles.  I  do 
not  pretend  not  to  feel  them,  however.  All  my  world- 
ly hopes  are  apparently  destroyed  ;  and  many  of  those 
who  are  now  ready  to  be  turned  into  the  streets  are 
the  dearest  friends  I  have  here ;  not  to  mention  the 
distress  of  the  poor,  who  will,  in  human  probability, 
soon  be  in  a  starving  condition.  In  these  circumstances 
it  is  impossible  not  to  feel.  Still,  if  God  is  pleased  to 
afford  me  the  same  degree  of  support  which  he  has 
hitherto,  I  shall  be  more  happy  than  ever  I  was.  I 
thought  I  knew  before,  that  this  world  was  treache- 
rous, and  its  enjoyments  transitory ;  but  these  things 
have  taught  me  this  truth  so  much  plainer,  and  weaned 
me  so  much  the  more  from  creature  dependences,  that 
I  desire  to  consider  them  among  my  chief  mercies.  It 
has  long  been  my  prayer,  that  if  God  had  any  worldly 
blessings  in  store  for  me,  he  would  be  pleased  to  give 
rae  grace  instead  of  them,  or  change  them  into  spiri- 
tual blessings  ;  and  now  he  begins  to  grant  my  request. 
I  am  sorry  for  H.'s  disappointment,  and  my  own  ina- 
bility to  assist  pa'  out  of  his  difficulties,  which  I  once 


144  MEMOIR    OF 

Jioped  I  should  be  able  to  do.  But  1  trust  they  will  be 
sanctified,  if  they  are  not  removed.  What  a  blessed 
portion  the  believer  has  in  the  word  of  God,  if  he  has 
only  a  hand  given  him  to  lay  hold  on  it !  But  too  of- 
ten our  hands  are  withered,  and  heed  not  the  divine 
command  to  stretch  them  out. 

"  I  tremble  for  our  poor  country.  I  fear  the  decree 
has  gone  out  against  her.  My  sins  have  helped  to  call 
down  judgments  upon  her,  and  I  desire  to  take  what 
falls  to  ray  share,  and  bless  God  that  my  punishment 
is  no  heavier,  and  no  more  proportioned  to  my  deserts. 
But  nothing  seems  too  bad  to  expect  from  present  ap- 
pearances.    If  we  escape  civil  war,  it  will  be  well. 

"  January  5,  1808. 
"I  would  not  finish  my  letter  before,  be- 
cause I  could  say  nothing  favorable  respecting  my 
health,  which  was  then  worse  than  ever,  but,  blessed 
be  God,  seems  now  unaccountably  restored.  The  tu- 
mult in  town  has  subsided  into  a  dead  calm  ;  the  em- 
bargo has  put  a  stop  to  every  thing  like  business,  and 
people  have  now  nothing  to  do  but  attend  to  religion ; 
and  we  endeavor  to  give  them  meetings  enough,  since 
they  have  leisure  to  attend  them.  Next  week  we  pur- 
pose to  keep  a  town  fast  on  account  of  our  distressed 
situation.  I  am  not  without  hopes  that  these  things 
may  be  overruled  to  bring  about  a  more  extensive  re- 
formation. The  attention  appears  to  continue,  and  we 
hear  of  new  instances  of  persons  under  concern.  Feel 
no  uneasiness  respecting  me.  The  Lord  is  my  Shep- 
herd ;  I  shall  not  want.  The  people  are  very  kind, 
increasingly  so.  Some  of  our  young  converts  have 
lost  their  all,  and  had  their  houses  stripped ;  and  it 


E»WARD   PAYSON.  145 

(Joes  my  heart  good  to  see  them  cheerful  and  quiet 
tinder  it ;  while  others,  who  have  no  God,  have  lost 
their  reason,  or,  worried  almost  incessantly,  are  appa- 
rently dying  of  a  broken  heart,  or  uttering  the  most 
bitter  and  distressing  complaints.  But  it  is  a  heart- 
rending sight  to  see  those  who  have  no  other  portion 
stripped  naked  of  all  worldly  good.  Their  gods  are 
taken  away,  and  what  have  they  more  ?" 

"  Jan,  5.  I  find  myself,  from  day  to  day,  in  the  situ- 
ation of  a  poor  beggar,  with  nothing  to  plead  but  my 
necessities.  In  the  evening  preached  to  a  serious 
audience,  and  was  greatly  encouraged  to  hope  for  a 
reformation  more  general.  Was  much  drawn  out  in 
prayer,  both  at  meeting  and  after  I  came  home. 

"  Jan.  6.  Hope  that  God  is  quickening  me  to  run 
the  way  of  his  commandments  with  a  more  enlarged 
heart. 

"  Jan.  10.  Preached,  and  administered  the  Lord's 
Supper.  Felt  entirely  exhausted.  My  constitution 
seems  to  be  much  broken,  and  a  little  labor  wears  me 
out. 

'''■Jan.  13.  This  day  was  devoted  to  fasting  and 
prayer,  by  the  town,  on  account  of  the  present  gloomy 
appearances. 

'"'■Jan.  14.  Hope  the  strong  workings  of  corruption 
I  have  experienced  will  make  me  more  humble,  and 
the  gracious  pardon  I  have  received,  more  thankful. 

'•  Jan.  17.  Sab.  Vv'as  alarmed  by  cry  of  fire  during 
family  prayer.  It  did  considerable  damage,  but,  by 
God's  goodness,  was  got  under,  though  the  town  was 
in  imminent  danger.  Was  much  assisted  in  seeking 
a  divine  blessing  on  all  our  afflictions.    Had  no  meet- 

M.  P.  13 


146  MEMOIR  OP 

ing  in  the  forenoon.  In  the  afternoon  preached  with 
some  liberty. 

'-'■Jan.  22.  In  the  evening  preached,  and  was  much 
refreshed  and  strengthened  in  my  own  soul.  Found 
the  Lord's  work  is  going  on.  O  what  shall  I  render 
unto  the  Lord  for  all  his  benefits  ! 

"  Jan.  24.  Sab.  Was  favored  with  a  sweet  sea- 
son in  pleading  for  the  divine  presence.  Hoped  that 
God  would  make  this  a  day  of  his  power  and  grace. 
Was  greatly  assisted.  Have  lately  been  favored  with 
more  love  to  God.  and  zeal  for  Christ,  tnan  I  used  to 
have,  and  feel  more  compassion  for  sinners. 

"  Jan.  25.  Seem  to  have  some  respite  from  the 
workings  of  corruption.  Spent  the  day  m  visiting  my 
people,  and  found  many  somewhat  exercised.  In  the 
evening  attended  a  conference  with  inquirers.  Found 
some  new  cases,  and  had  a  pleasant  evening. 

"  Jan.  26.  Felt  eager  desires  to  be  wholly  con- 
formed to  Christ,  and  to  be  carried  away  with  the  con- 
straining influence  of  his  love. 

"  Fe6.  4.  Was  overwhelmed  with  wonder,  shame, 
and  confusion,  to  reflect  on  the  innumerable  mercies 
I  had  received,  and  the  ungrateful  returns  I  had  made. 
In  the  afternoon  preached  at  the  poor-house,  and 
found  some  of  the  inmates  much  affected." 

Soon  after  this  he  was  seized  with  a  violent  pleu- 
ritic affection,  which  rendered  speaking  a  most  pain- 
ful and  difficull  exercise.  The  pain  continued  for 
some  time,  attended  by  various  discouraging  symp- 
toms. He  did  not  neglect  to  call  in  medical  aid  ;  and 
the  prescriptions  of  physician?  were  partially  blessed 
But  the  moment  he  felt  a  little  relieved  he  would  re- 
sume his  labors.  "  go  to  a  prayer-meeting,  take  more 


EDWARD   PAYSON.  147 

cold,  and  come  home  much  worse."  Repeatedly  dur- 
mg  this  illness^  when  he  was  necessarily  confined  to 
his  room,  he  enters  a  notice  of  this  kind — "  Spent  al- 
most the  whole  day  in  conversing  with  persons  who 
were  exercised  with  spiritual  trials ;"  and  every  such 
day  was  one  of  great  fatigue,  at  the  close  of  which 
"'  all  his  alarming  symptoms  would  return  Avith  great 
violence."  When  his  conversation  with  inquirers  was 
not  prolonged  to  weariness,  it  proved  "  refreshing 
to  his  spirits."  Though  he  found  it  "  trying  to  be  laid 
aside  as  a  broken  vessel,  when  the  people  were  will- 
ing to  hear,"  he  could  still  bless  God  for  sweet  resig- 
nation to  the  divine  will.  '•  Could  not  feel  a  wish  re- 
specting the  continuance  of  my  life;  bat  had  God  re- 
ferred the  matter  to  me,  I  should  have  referred  it  back 
again  to  him.  My  only  wish  was — if  I  lived — to  live 
unto  the  Lord  ;  and,  if  I  died,  to  die  unto  the  Lord." 

In  the  latter  part  of  February  his  physician  found 
it  necessary  to  forbid  his  preaching  for  several  Sab- 
baths, and  was  in  a  measure  successful  in  enforcing 
the  prohibition,  as  his  patient  does  not  appear  to  have 
gone  out  to  any  religious  meeting  for  more  than  a  fort- 
night, when  he  ventured  to  '•  attend  a  conference  with 
those  under  concern,  where  he  found  several  new  in- 
quirers, and  was  carried  through  beyond  expectation." 
But  the  exposure  was  followed  by  a  dangerous  relapse, 
so  that  he  thought  his  "health  irrecoverably  gone." 

'^  March  26.  Had  an  exceedingly  painful  night, 
worse  than  ever,  but  had  some  satisfaction  in  thinking 
of  going  to  b3  with  Chri?t.  In  the  evening  was  ex- 
tremely unwell,  and  suffered  great  pain. 

^^ March  27.  Sab.  In  the  morning  was  very  ill; 
but  was  carried  to  meeting  in  the  afternoon,  though  I 


148  MEMOIR  or 

could  not  preach.  Was  too  weak  to  have  much  com- 
fort at  meeting,  and  came  home  very  low-spirited. 

"  March  28.  Am  pretty  well  convinced  that  my 
disease  is  mortal.  My  mind  partakes  so  much  of  the 
weakness  of  my  body,  that  I  can  do  nothing  in  reli- 
gion, and  can  scarcely  refrain  from  peevishness  and 
fretting. 

"  March  30.  Had  a  most  sweet  and  refreshing  sea- 
son in  secret  prayer  this  morning.  Felt  more  ardent 
love  to  Christ  than  I  have  for  some  time,  and  was 
sweetly  melted  under  a  sense  of  my  own  ingratitude. 
Was  resigned  to  his  will  respecting  me,  and  was  will- 
ing to  depart  and  be  with  him. 

"  April  2.  Conversed  with  some  persons  who  came 
in  to  see  me,  respecting  means  to  be  taken  for  the  sup- 
pression of  profanity  and  Sabbath-breaking. 

"  April  3.  Sab.  Was  able  to  attend  meeting  and 
preach  part  of  the  day.  Was  favored  with  some  li- 
berty at  the  sacrament,  and  had  some  foretaste  of  hea- 
ven, and  desire  to  enjoy  it.  Am  much  afraid  the  refor- 
mation is  going  off.  Was  assisted  to  pray  that  the 
work  might  go  on,  and  also  in  praying  for  myself,  so 
that  I  hope  the  Lord  has  been  pleased  to  strengthen 
me  on  this  occasion. 

"  April  4.  Had  unusual  earnestness  in  prayer  this 
morning  both  for  myself  and  others,  and  was  sweetly 
melted  in  reading  the  divine  word.  Was  depressed 
by  finding  that  the  town  would  do  nothing  respectmg 
the  observance  of  the  Sabbath.  Was  enabled  to  pour 
out  my  sorrows  and  complaints  before  God  with  some 
degree  of  freedom. 

"  Aj)ril  7.  This  day  being  our  annual  fast,  I  en- 
deavored to  humble  myself  before  God  for  my  person- 


EDWARD   PAYSON.  149 

al  sins,  as  well  as  our  public  transgressions,  to  renew 
covenant  with  God,  and  devote  myself  with  new  zeal 
to  his  service.  Was  likewise  assisted  in  pleading 
with  God  for  more  grace,  and  life,  and  light,  in  my 
own  soul,  and  in  the  souls  of  my  people  ;  and  that  the 
reformation  which  has  begun  may  be  carried  on  glori- 
ously and  triumphantly  among  us.  In  the  morning 
attended  meeting,  and  heard  a  most  excellent  sermon 
from  Mr.  K.  In  the  afternoon  preached  with  some 
degree  of  assistance. 

"  April  8.  Had  a  very  uncomfortable  night,  but 
was  sweetly  refreshed  and  strengthened  in  secret 
prayer  this  morning.  It  is  long  since  I  have  found  so 
much  of  the  divine  presence.  Was  much  assisted  in 
praying  for  a  revival  of  religion,  and  cannot  but  hope 
God  will  yet  bless  us  still  more  abundantly. 

•'  April  9.  Was  employed  most  of  the  day  in  vis- 
iting. Was  troubled  with  some  who  wished  to  join 
the  church  without  being  qualified. 

"  April  14.  Attended  a  conference  for  those  under 
concern,  and  v/as  refreshed  to  see  a  goodly  number, 
and  to  trace  the  operations  of  the  divine  Spirit  upon 
their  minds. 

"  A.pril  19.  O  how  sweet  and  refreshing  it  is  to 
get  aoDve  the  load  of  sins,  sorrows  and  corruptions 
which  oppress  us,  and  taste  a  little  of  communion  with 
God! 

''''April  20,  Was  strengthened  with  all  might  in 
the  inner  man,  and  enabled  to  renew  covenant  with 
God  with  great  joy  and  sincerity. 

'■'April  21.  I  have  long  been  in  a  lethargy,  but  I 
trust  God  is  now  bringing  me  out  of  it.  Find  great 
and  unusual  sweetness  in  the  Bible  of  late,  for  which 

M.  P.  13* 


150  MEMOIR   OF 

I  have  long  been  praying  ;  and  likewise  a  deeper 
sense  of  the  importance  oi'  time, — another  blessing  for 
which  I  have  long  been  seeking.  The  enemy  taking 
advantage  of  my  great  weakness,  threw  me  into  a 
most  sinful  frame  of  mind  ;  but  on  application  to  Him 
who  stills  the  waves,  the  tumult  of  my  mind  was 
stilled,  and  there  was  a  great  calm. 

"  April  22.  Was  favored  with  some  intense  huii- 
gerings  and  thirstings  after  righteousness.  Was  led 
to  believe,  from  certain  circumstances,  that  my  case 
was  almost  desperate,  but  felt  most  sweetly  resigned. 
My  only  wish  was  that  God  might  be  glorified,  either 
by  my  life  or  death. 

^"  April  23.  Was  assisted  in  prayer  through  the 
day.  My  heart  seemed  ready  to  break  with  its  long- 
ings after  holiness.  Found  unusual  sweetness  in 
reading  the  Scriptures.  Am  much  encouraged  by  the 
Lord's  unusual  goodness  to  me,  that  he  is  about  to 
carry  on  his  work  still  more  gloriously  in  this  place. 

"  April  25.  Was  constrained  to  feel  the  truth  of 
our  Lord's  declaration,  '  Without  me  ye  can  do  no- 
thing.' " 

The  following  paragraphs  from  letters  written  dur- 
mg  this  spring  will  not  be  uninteresting  : 

''Portland,  March  28,  1808. 
"My  dearest  Mother, 

"  The  Sabbath  after  I  wrote  to  Grata,  I  preached  as 
I  expected  ;  but  it  proved  too  much  for  me,  and  I  have 
not  preached  since,  nor  do  I  expect  to  till  the  weath- 
er grows  warmer .  Meanwhile  the  attention  to  reli- 
gion seems  to  be  at  a  stand,  and  whether  it  will  not 
wholly  subside  is  more  than  we  can  tell.     I  need  not 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  151 

say  that  this  is  atrial ;  but,  blessed  be  God,  he  makes 
It  lighter  than  I  could  ha\e  thought  possible.  It  is 
true  I  have  not  much  sensible  or  positive  comfort; 
but  I  am  kept  perfectly  quiet  and  resigned,  and  can 
hardly  find  whether  I  have  any  will  or  not.  Should 
my  health  not  be  perfectly  re-established  before  warm 
weather,  I  shall  probably  make  a  journey  home.  The 
people  are  abundantly  kind,  and  suffer  me  to  want  for 
nothing  which  they  can  supply.  Mr.  K.  is  as  kind  to 
me  as  the  congregation,  and  though  he  is  almost  over- 
whelmed with  labor,  yet  he  will  not  suffer  me  to  ex- 
pose myself  in  the  least. 

"Now,  after  enumerating  all  these  mercies,  you 
will  conclude,  of  course,  that  I  am  all  wonder  and  gra- 
titude, and  that  the  constant  language  of  my  heart  is, 
'What  shall  I  render  unto  the  Lord  for  all  his  bene- 
fits V  That  I  ought  to  be  so,  I  am  very  sensible ;  but, 
alas,  how  far  from  it  I  am  in  reality  !  I  do  indeed  feel 
some  wonder  how  God  can  be  so  good  ;  such  a  kind 
of  wonder  as  we  feel  when  thinking  of  his  eternity  or 
infinite  power ;  but  as  to  gratitude,  I  hardly  know  by 
experience  what  it  means.  I  once  used  to  think  that  I 
did  feel  grateful,  when  I  had  not  half  the  reason  for  it 
which  I  now  have ;  but  I  have  done  thinking  so.  All 
we  can  do  falls  so  far  short  of  what  we  owe,  that  it 
seems  little  better  than  mockery  to  thank  him  in  our 
feeble  language,  and  I  can  only  stand  in  astonishment 
to  see  how  good  he  will  be  notwithstanding  all  I  can 
do  to  prevent  it.  O  how  true  it  is,  that  he  will  have 
mercy  on  whom  he  will  have  mercy !  I  can  hardly 
help  praying  sometimes,  that  he  would  take  away 
all  he  has  bestowed,  so  that,  if  I  must  sin,  I  need  not 
sin  against  such  overwhelming  goodness.    But  it  is 


152  MEMOIR   OF 

as  natural  for  him  to  be  good  and  kind,  as  it  is  for  as 
to  aouse  his  goodness;  and  sooner  shall  our  wicked 
hearts  cease  to  sin,  than  he  cease  to  pardon  and  for- 
give sin. 

*     *    *    ♦ 

"  The  embargo,  humanly  speaking,  will  be  detri- 
mental to  the  morals  of  the  people  here.  They  have 
now  nothing  to  do  but  saunter  about,  and  of  course 
ihey  get  into  all  manner  of  mischief ;  and  I  fear  they 
will  lose  all  habits  of  industry  and  sobriety.  How- 
ever, if  I  have  any  health,  we  shall  endeavor  to  mul- 
tiply meetings,  and  take  up  as  much  of  their  time  as 
possible  in  that  way." 

"  Portland,  April  18,  1S08. 
"Yes,  my  dearest  mother,  I  did  think  of  my  friends 
at  Rindge,  when  I  apprehended  I  was  about  to  leave 
them.  They  were  almost,  if  not  altogether,  the  only 
things  that  I  felt  the  least  regret  at  the  idea  of  quit- 
ting ;  but  that  regret  was  alleviated,  if  not  wholly  re- 
moved, by  the  consoling  hope  that  I  should  soon  meet 
them  again,  to  be  separated  no  more.  But,  my  dear 
mother,  why  this  anxiety  ?  If  I  wished  for  life,  it 
would  distress  me  exceedingly  to  see  you  thus  anx- 
ious, because  I  should  fear  it  would  lead  God  to  re- 
move from  you  one  for  whom  you  indulge  so  much 
concern.  I  shall  certainly  live  as  long  as  I  have 
any  thing  to  do  for  the  divine  glory ;  for  "we  are  im- 
mortal till  our  work  is  dene ;"  and  you  surely  could 
not  wish  me  to  live  after  that  is  accomplished.  Ever 
since  I  have  entertained  a  comfortable  hope  of  my  ac- 
ceptance in  the  Beloved,  it  has  been  my  constant 
wish  that  what  1  had  to  do  might  be  done  speedily ; 


EDWARD   PAYSON.  153 

and  if  God  should  see  fit  to  grant  this  wish,  will  it 
not  be  better  than  if  I  should  be  a  long  time  in  per- 
forming the  work  allotted,  and  drag  on  a  wearisome 
life  to  no  purpose  ?  It  was  my  great  consolation,  while 
taken  oflf  from  active  service,  and  laid  aside  as  a  bro- 
ken vessel  and  a  foot  out  of  joint,  that  we  may  glorify 
God  as  much  by  patiently  sufiering,  as  by  actively  do- 
ing his  will ;  and  I  hope  this  consolation  will  be  yours, 
should  he  see  fit  to  appoint  me  a  life  of  weakness, 
pain  and  sufiering,  or  remove  me  first  from  this  state 
of  trial.  It  is  a  striking  proof  of  our  depravity,  that 
when  God  favors  us  with  special  mercies,  he  sees  it 
necessary  to  send  special  afflictions,  to  teach  us  our 
dependence  and  keep  us  humble.  Could  I  have  con- 
tinued suitably  humble  and  thankful  under  the  mer- 
cies I  have  lately  received  with  respect  to  my  settle- 
ment here,  and  the  out-pourings  of  the  Spirit,  he  ne- 
ver would  have  frustrated,  first,  my  temporal  pros- 
pects, and  afterwards,  by  sickness,  as  it  were  cast  me 
out  of  his  vineyard,  as  an  unworthy  and  an  unfaithful 
laborer.  But  I  not  only  deserved,  but  indispensably 
needed  all  that  has  befallen  me ;  and  I  desire  to  bless 
him  for  these  afflictions,  by  which,  Avhen  my  roots  be- 
gan to  shoot  into  and  cleave  to  the  earth,  he  plucked 
them  up  before  they  were  too  deeply  and  firmly  fixed, 
and  thus  experimentally  taught  me  not  to  look  for  or 
expect  any  happiness  beyond  that  of  serving  him  here, 
but  to  wait  for  my  reward  in  another  world ;  a  lesson 
of  infinite  importance,  and  which  I  greatly  needed. 
But  it  is  a  lesson  so  hard  for  us,  or  at  least  for  me,  to 
learn,  that  I  well  foresee,  if  I  am  continued  here  any 
length  of  time,  it  will  be  necessary  for  God  to  impress 
it  upon  my  mind  again  and  again  by  repeated  and 


154  MEMOIR  or 

multiplied  disappointments.  My  disposition  is  natu- 
rally so  ardent,  that  I  can  enjoy  nothing  with  mode- 
ration, so  that  I  must  either  be  totally  indifferent  to 
worldly  objects,  or  else  love  them  to  such  a  degree 
as  to  render  them  idols  ;  and  then,  of  course,  God  must 
and  will  either  imbitter  or  remove  them.  It  is  evi- 
dent, therefore,  that  I  must  not  expect  worldly  happi- 
ness ;  for  perfect  indifference  to  any  object,  or  too  much 
love  for  it,  are  equally  incompatible  with  happiness  ; 
and  these  are  the  only  two  states  of  which  I  am  ca- 
pable. For  this  reason  I  fear  ever  to  enter  the  mar- 
riage state,  for  I  should  most  certainly  love  a  wife  too 
much  or  too  little.  I  know  not,  however,  whether  I 
ought  to  regret  this  trait  in  niy  character,  since,  by 
cutting  me  off  from  other  sources,  it  does,  as  it  were, 
necessarily  drive  me  to  One  whom  I  cannot  love  or 
serve  too  much,  and  compel  me  to  place  all  my  hopes 
in  a  future  state. 

"  Since  you  complain  that  I  did  not  tell  you  what 
my  sickness  has  been,  I  will  now  inform  you,  lest  you 
should  suppose  it  worse  than  it  was.  It  was  an  in- 
flammation of  the  lungs  and  adjoining  parts,  attended 
for  several  weeks  with  extreme  debility,  sharp  pain, 
restlessness,  loss  of  appetite,  difficulty  of  breathing, 
and  an  inability  to  converse  for  any  time  together.  I 
should,  I  believe,  have  easily  got  over  it,  but  I  con- 
tinued my  labors  much  too  long,  hoping  I  should  be 
able  to  drag  along  till  warm  weather,  which,  I  trust- 
ed, would  restore  me.  But  after  sacrament,  when,  by 
reason  of  the  length  of  the  services,  I  was  so  exhaust- 
ed that  I  could  scarcely  sit  in  my  chair,  I  was  obliged 
to  go  out  in  a  cold,  raw  evening,  to  converse  and  pray 
with  a  dying  sailor,  who  had  just  found  out  that  he 


EDWARD  PAYSON.  155 

had  a  soul  to  save.  The  next  day  was  a  violent  storm, 
in  which  I  imprudently  went  out  to  visit  some  sick 
persons,  and  the  day  following  was  seized  with  a  sharp 
pleuritic  pain  in  my  side.  However,  as  it  was  lecture 
night,  I  was  obliged  to  preach,  which  I  got  through 
with  much  pain  and  some  difficulty,  but  was  then  con- 
strained to  give  up.  Still  I  believe  my  confinement 
would  have  been  much  shorter,  had  not  persons  con- 
tinued to  come  and  converse  with  me  who  were  un- 
der concern.  I  could  not  find  it  in  my  heart  to  send 
them  away,  and  the  temporary  exhilaration  of  spirits, 
which  seeing  them  gave  me,  prevented  me  from  find- 
ing out  at  first  how  much  talking  injured  me,  so  that, 
for  a  long  time,  I  lost  much  faster  than  I  gained.  But 
the  sun  seems  to  be  a  physician  superior  to  all  the 
doctors,  and  his  warm  beams,  under  God,  have  in  a 
good  measure  restored  me. 

'  Thus  have  I  spent  my  health — an  odious  trick 
*  In  making  known  how  oft  1  have  been  sick.' 

But  if  your  patience  is  wearied,  you  must  ascribe  it  to 
your  own  request,  without  which  I  should  not  have 
said  a  syllable  on  the  subject." 

The  '■  inflammation,"  he  observes  in  another  letter, 
"  was  brought  on  by  speaking  in  hot  rooms,  and  then 
going  out  into  the  cold  evening  air."  His  illness 
proved,  on  the  whole,  a  serious  one ;  and  he  w^as  ob- 
liged not  only  to  suspend  preaching,  but  to  leave  the 
scene  of  his  labors,  before  he  could  obtam  relief.  On 
the  27th  of  April  he  set  out  for  his  father's  house,  to 
try  the  effect  of  a  journey  and  a  country  residence  on 
his  health.  "  In  crossing  a  stream,  whose  bridge  had 
been  carried  away,  he  was  thrown  from  his  horse  and 


•  156  MEMOIR   OF 

thoroughly  wet,  so  that  he  could  proceed  no  farther." 
The  next  day,  "  after  riding  about  ten  miles,  he  was 
seized  with  the  symptoms  of  a  violent  fever,  and  ob- 
liged to  stop  and  take  his  bed."  The  third  day  he  pur- 
sued his  journey  moderately,  but  "  in  much  pain  and 
weakness,  fearing  that  his  lungs  had  been  much  in- 
jured by  his  late  accident."  Before  night  of  the  fourth 
day  he  "  was  extremely  exhausted."  "  Find,"  he 
says,  "  that  a  fever  comes  on  at  night,  and  goes  off 
with  sweats  in  the  morning."  The  next  day  was  the 
Sabbath,  which  he  spent  in  Milford,  "  weak  in  body 
and  mind.  After  meeting,  which  he  attended  both 
parts  of  the  day,  had  some  conversation  with  a  uni- 
versalist,  but  to  little  purpose."  "  May  2.  Reached 
home,  and  was  most  kindly  received.  After  the  flow 
of  spirits  occasioned  by  seeing  friends  was  over,  found 
myself  much  exhausted  with  my  journey." 

For  several  days  after  his  arrival  he  grew  worse, 
till  he  "  lost  all  strength  and  appetite,"  and  was  taken 
with  a  "  hectic  fever,"  as  was  then  supposed,  "  at- 
tended with  night  sweats  and  some  cough.  He  gave 
up  all  hope  of  recovering,  and  felt  willing  to  die ;  had 
no  murmuring  thought." 


CHAPTER  IX. 

Resumes  his  pastoral  labors — Letters — Review  of  the  year. 

Mr.  Payson's  absence  from  his  people  was  prolong- 
ed to  a  period  of  more  than  two  months.    Durincr  thi'« 


EDWARD    PAYSO^^  157 

•* 

time  he  endured  much  bodily  suffering ;  but  his  resig- 
cation,  and  his  demeanor  generally,  were  such  as  be- 
came a  man  professing  godliness.  He  obtained  no  re- 
lief till  near  the  close  of  this  period,  when  he  repaired 
to  Boston  for  medical  advice,  by  which  he  was  encou- 
raged to  hope  that  he  might  again  engage  in  preach- 
ing the  Gospel.  His  church  observed  a  day  of  fasting 
and  prayer  on  his  account  during  his  absence.  He  set 
out  on  his  return  to  them  July  4th,  not  without  "  gloo- 
my melancholy  fears.  The  work  appeared  great,  the 
obstacles  insurmountable,  and  his  strength  nothing." 
Most  of  the  information  which  could  be  collected 
respecting  his  circumstances  for  several  succeeding 
months,  is  contained  in  letters  that  were  written  to 
his  parents  and  sister. 

"  Portland,  Wednesday  evening,  July  6,  1808. 
"  My  dearest  Parents, 

"  When  you  see  where  and  when  this  letter  is  dated, 
you  will,  I  fear,  be  ready  to  exclaim,  '  Imprudent  boy  ! 
why  will  he  not  learn  wisdom  by  experience  V  But 
when  you  hear  that  no  ill  consequences  have  resulted 
from  my  haste,  you  will,  I  hope,  pardon  me.  The  truth 
is,  when  I  got  beyond  the  reach  of  the  attraction  of 
Rindge,  which  was  not  very  soon,  Portland  began  to 
draw  with  such  irresistible  force,  that  I  found  there 
would  be  no  peace  for  me  till  I  reached  it.  So,  maugre 
my  lame  horse,  who  grew  lamer  and  lamer  every  hour, 
I  pressed  on,  and  arrived  here  about  six  this  afternoon. 
How  it  will  be  to-morrow  I  cannot  tell ;  but  at  pre- 
sent I  am  perfectly  well,  and  never  was  less  fatigued 
by  a  journey  in  my  life    Mr.  K.  is  out  of  town,  attend- 

M.  p.  U 


158  MEMOIR  OF 

ing  an  association,  and  my  host,  with  his -wife,  is  ab- 
sent on  a  visit ;  so  as  yet  I  have  seen  nobody. 

"  Thursday  morning. 
"  The  crowd  of  anxious  and  interesting  thoughts 
which  engaged  my  mind  on  my  return  would  not  suf- 
fer me  to  rest  much  last  night,  and  of  course  I  feel 
rather  languid  this  morning.  Still,  however,  I  never 
felt  less  inconvenience  from  such  a  journey.  Mr.  K. 
has  just  left  me.  He  gives  a  discouraging  account  of 
the  situation  of  religion.  Several,  whose  convictions 
appeared  to  be  of  the  right  kind,  have  apparently  lost 
them,  and  a  general  coldness  seems  to  be  prevailing. 

*'  Thursday  night. 
*•  Perhaps  you  saw  lately  an  account  of  a  man  who 
was  tried  here  for  murder.  He  Avas  found  guilty,  and 
is  now  in  prison.  I  went  this  afternoon  to  visit  him. 
and  was  greatly  shocked  and  afflicted  by  a  view  of  the 
bolts,  chains,  and  other  guards  against  escape.  The 
entrance  to  his  dungeon  was  by  a  small  square  pas- 
sage, through  which  I  could  but  just  crawl  by  stooping 
double,  and  it  was  secured  by  a  very  thick  door  of 
solid  iron.  It  was,  however,  sufficiently  light,  sweet, 
and  free  from  dampness.  The  criminal  is  a  young, 
stout,  well-looking  man,  as  far  removed  as  possible 
from  the  idea  one  is  ready  to  form  of  a  murderer.  He 
said  he  felt  guilty,  and  self-condemned  before  God,  and 
felt  the  need  of  a  Savior,  and  of  a  new  heart,  but  knew 
not  how  to  procure  either  of  ihem.  But  he  said  this  in 
a  cold,  unfeeling  way.  I  shall  see  him  again  soon,  for 
my  own  sake,  as  well  as  his.  It  is  well  calculated  to 
make  one  admire  and  adore  distinguishing  grace,  which 


EDWAr.n  ?ays:n.  159 

nas  kept  us  from  the  same  crime 3,  to  see  a  man,  in  the 
flower  of  life,  shut  up  in  a  small  dungeon,  never  to  go 
out  till  he  goes  to  a  violent  and  ignominious  death.  In 
the  evening  I  went  to  our  meeting  for  those  under  con- 
cern. This  is  still  kept  up,  though  very  few  attend, 
and  they  seem  little  engaged. 

'•  Friday. 
"  I  have  been  trying  the  effect  of  sea-bathing.  It  was 
not  a  very  favorable  time,  but  I  feel  better  for  it,  and 
shall  repeat  it  daily.  I  have  spent  some  time  in  going 
round  among  the  people.  They  appear  glad  to  see  me; 
but,  alas !  I  fear  there  are  no  hopes  of  any  further  re- 
formation at  present.  Many,  whom  I  left  under  deep 
concern,  have  lost  all  their  impressions  ;  others  are 
cold  ;  Christians  seem  to  be  discouraged.  Though  I 
expected  this,  ic  is  almost  too  much  for  me  to  bear.  I 
am  dispirited  and  dejected  ;  my  very  soul  sickens  and 
shrinks  back  from  v/hat  is  before  me.  Weakened  by 
sickness,  my  mind  seems  to  have  lost  at  once  all  faith 
and  fortitude.  I  have  no  assistance  in  writing.  My 
ideas  are  all  confused.  I  seem  to  have  no  power  to 
get  hold  of  people's  consciences,  but,  as  somebody  ex- 
presses it,  'my  intellects  have  got  mittens  on.' 

"  Sunday  evening. 
"I  preached  to-day,  and  felt  pretty  much  as  I  ex- 
pected. No  life,  people  stupid.  I  shall  get  hardened  to 
these  things  soon ;  but  at  present  they  are  distressing 
indeed.  But  though  I  am  perplexed,  I  am  not  utterly 
in  despair;  though  cast  down,  I  am  not  destroyed. 
Somehow  or  other,  I  shall  be  carried  through.  As  to 
my  healtn,  I  have  little  leisure  to  think  of  it  amidst  the 
more  interesting  things  which  oppress  me.    I  believe, 


l!60  MEMOIR  or 

however,  I  shall  suffer  but  little  inconvenience  from 
speaking  to-day." 

"  Portland,  July  16,  1808. 
"My  dear  Sister, 

"  I  know  not  why  it  was,  but  I  never  felt  more  pain 
at  leaving  home,  since  I  first  began  to  venture  abroad, 
than  when  I  left  Rindge  for  Portland.  I  rode  in  a  very 
melancholy  mood  all  day,  and  seldom  have  I  felt  more 
unpleasantly.  This,  you  will  say,  was  but  an  ungrate- 
ful return  to  my  heavenly  Father  for  his  goodness ; 
but,  though  I  felt  sensible  that  it  was,  I  could  not  alter 
the  course  of  my  feelings.  My  mind  had  become  so 
tender  by  being  accustomed  to  kindness  and  attention 
that  it  seemed  to  shrink  from  every  thing  like  cold- 
ness, and  it  was  in  vain  to  expect  that  kindness  from 
others  which  I  experienced  from  parental  and  sisterly 
affection  at  home.  The  difficulties,  too,  of  the  minis- 
try were  all  before  me.  Like  Peter,  I  looked  only  at 
the  waves  and  billows,  forgetting  the  almighty  arm 
that  was  extended  for  my  support;  and  consequently 
like  him,  I  sunk  in  the  depths  of  despondency.  Nor  is 
the  prospect,  now  I  am  here,  calculated  to  cheer  me. 
Iniquities  abound ;  the  love  of  many  is  waxen  cold ; 
the  enemy  seems  coming  in  as  a  flood ;  the  Spirit  of 
the  Lord  no  longer  lifts  up  a  standard  against  him ; 
and  I,  what  can  1  do  ?  What  is  worst  of  all,  is,  that 
many  are  ready  to  think  that,  because  I  am  returned, 
religion  will  revive.  This  sickens  and  discourages  my 
very  soul ;  for  I  know  assuredly,  that,  while  this  is  the 
case,  my  labors  will  be  utterly  unsuccessful.  This 
shows,  too,  that  they  have  not  learnt,  by  my  sickness 
what  God  meant  they  should  learn,  and  will  bring  9 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  161 

blast  upon  me  and  my  exertions.  Still,  however,  bless- 
ed be  God,  he  does  not  suffer  me  utterly  to  despair. 
That  text,  "  Fear  thou  not,  for  I  am  with  thee  ;  be  not 
dismayed,  for  I  am  thy  God :  I  will  strengthen  thee ;  yea, 
1  will  help  thee;  yea,  I  will  uphold  thee  with  the  right 
hand  of  my  righteousness" — never  fails  to  bring  relief 
even  in  the  darkest  hours.  In  addition  to  this,  I  find  some 
relief  in  conversing  with  those  who  were  taken  into  the 
church  before  I  left  them,  most  of  whom  seem  to  be 
humble,  growing  Christians  ;  so  that  I  have  still  abun- 
dant reason  to  be  thankful ;  but,  alas !  I  cannot.  You. 
my  si  iter,  nex^er  will  know  what  it  is  to  attempt  to  go 
ihroug?!  the  duties  of  the  ministry  without  God.  I 
stagger  along  under  the  burden  like  those  poor  travel- 
ers who  were  cast  away  in  the  deserts  of  Arabia, 
ready  every  step  to  sink  under  it ;  but  Vx'-hen  it  seems 
as  if  I  could  not  take  another  step,  but  must  lie  down 
and  die,  some  spring  opens  to  my  view,  and  I  get 
strength  and  courage  to  drag  along  a  little  farther. — 
But  enough  of  this  melancholy  strain.  My  health  con- 
tinues to  improve  rapidly,  and  I  am  almost  perfectly 
well." 

"  Portland,  August  3,  1S08. 
"  My  dearest  Parents, 

'•I  had  almost  resolved  not  to  write  again  tili  I  re- 
ceived letters  from  home,  which  I  have  been  looking 
for  with  much  impatience  and  some  hard  thoughts ; 
but,  lest  you  should  impute  my  silence  to  a  wrong 
cause,  I  will  put  an  end  to  it  for  the  present,  and  tell 
you  that  I  am  gradually  growing  better,  and  am,  in  a 
manner,  perfectly  well.  I  preach  in  all  weathers,  and 
at  all  hours,  without  much,  if  any,  inconvenience, 

ai.  p.  14*' 


162  MEMOIR    OF 

and  still  gain  strength  notwithstanding ;  and  the  peo- 
ple say  that  I  speak  now  as  loud  and  strong  as  ever, 
though  I  did  not  when  I  first  came  back.  I  have  also 
thrown  off  my  melancholy  fits,  and  am  as  cheerful  as 
ever.  The  state  of  religion,  however,  is  not  such  as 
I  could  wish. 

"  I  preached  last  Sabbath  on  man's  depravity,  and 
attempted  to  show,  that,  by  nature,  man  is.  m  stupid- 
ity and  insensibility,  a  block ;  in  sensuality  and  sot- 
tishness,  a  beast ;  and  in  pride,  malice,  cruelty,  and 
treachery,  a  devil.  This  set  the  whole  town  in  an 
uproar,  and  never  was  such  a  racket  made  about  any 
poor  sermon  ;  it  is  perfectly  inconceivable  to  any  who 
have  not  seen  it.  But  I  cannot  help  hoping,  that, 
amidst  all  this  smoke,  there  may  be  some  latent 
sparks  which  will  burst  out  into  a  blaze.  We  had 
a  lecture  last  evening  in  the  meeting-house,  which 
was  much  more  crowded  than  any  we  ever  had  be- 
fore. However,  our  fears  are,  as  yet,  much  greater 
than  our  hopes." 

The  sermon  alluded  to  in  this  letter  is  probably  one 
which  he  preached  from  John,  8  :  44,  and  which  is 
still  remembered  with  lively  impression  by  some  of 
the  hearers,  whose  account  of  its  effects  amply  sus- 
tains his  own  description.  In  the  course  of  the  fol- 
lowing week  there  might  be  heard  one  man  hailing 
another  in  the  street  as  "  brother  devil !"  This,  com- 
ing to  Mr.  Payson's  ears,  so  far  from  being  regarded 
as  a  circumstance  of  discouragement,  inspired  him 
with  the  hope  that  good  would  ultimately  result  from 
it — a  hope  which  the  event  justified  ;  for  some  of  these 
"  brave  spirits "  were  afterwards  humbled  at  the  foot 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  163 

of  the  cross.  His  description  of  the  "  natural  man  " 
is  given  in  terms  which  he  repeatedly  applies  to  him- 
self in  his  private  journal ;  and  his  severest  expres- 
sions were  uttered  with  the  moving  tenderness  of  a 
heart  that  yearned  over  the  guilt  and  impending  mi- 
sery of  his  fellow-men.  The  wounds  he  inflicted 
were  "the  wounds  of  a  friend."  Those  on  whom 
his  strokes  fell  with  deadliest  effect,  could  not  but 
feel  that  benevolence  aimed  the  blow. 

"  August  10. 
"I  have  just  received  your  letter,  my  dear  mother, 
and  will  now  put  an  end  to  mine,  which  a  press  of 
duty  had  made  me  lay  by.  Mr.  K.  has  been  called 
to  part  with  a  beloved  child,  which  has  thrown  a 
great  deal  of  business  upon  my  hands.  He  is  going 
a  journey  soon,  and  I  must  finish  visiting  the  people 
before  he  goes,  as  I  shall  have  no  time  afterwards. 
Your  letter  afforded  me  some  comfort  at  a  time  when 
I  needed  it.  We  have  lost  all  hopes  of  any  more  at- 
tention at  present,  and  I  am  in  some  measure  recon- 
ciled to  it ;  for  if  a  revival  should  take  place  imme- 
diately after  my  return,  people  -\vould  not  give  God 
the  glory.  The  opposition  grows  more  and  more  bit- 
ter ;  every  mouth  seems  to  be  opened  to  revile,  and 
ChristianSj  instead  of  supporting  me,  seem  to  think 
that  it  will  not  do  to  tell  the  whole  truth,  lest  the 
world  should  be  too  much  offended.  I  was  prone  to 
trust  to  Christians,  and  think  that,  though  all  should 
be  offended,  yet  they  would  not ;  but  I  find  it  will  not 
do  to  put  trust  in  man,  however  good  he  may  be. 
Even  Christians  had  much  rather  hear  of  their  privi- 
leges, their  good  estate,  and  the  happiness  prepared 


164  MEMOIR    OF 

for  them,  than  be  told  plainly  how  defective  they  are, 
and  urged  to  greater  diligence,  zeal,  and  fidelity.  I 
think  sometimes,  that  all  the  service  I  shall  do  the 
church  will  be  to  change  them  from  legal  to  evan- 
gelical hypocrites ;  for  they  have  now  got  their  cue, 
and,  instead  of  saying  that  they  do  all  they  can,  and 
hope  Christ  will  do  the  rest,  they  are  all  complaining, 
like  Mrs.  ***+****j  what  dreadful  vile  creatures  they 
are,  and  smile  all  the  time. 

"  However,  there  are  some  who  make  these  com- 
plaints in  a  different  manner,  and  who  appear  really 
to  groan  under  a  body  of  sin  and  death.  One  person, 
who  was  esteemed  by  Mr.  K.  and  the  whole  church, 
and  by  myself  too,  not  only  a  Christian,  but  a  very 
eminent  one,  of  whose  religion  I  had  not  the  least 
doubt,  and  who  appeared  to  be  very  humble  and 
broken-hearted,  and,  in  short,  to  be  every  thing  we 
could  wish,  has  discovered  that  she  was  building  on 
the  sand.  She  had  been  a  professor  some  time,  but 
had  never  heard  of  or  suspected  the  diiference  be- 
tween holy  and  selfish  love,  and  is  now  fully  con- 
vinced that  all  her  love  was  of  the  latter  kind.  As 
she  possesses  good  sense  and  information,  the  ac- 
counts she  gives  of  her  experiences,  while  destitute 
of  religion,  are  very  profitable,  and  open  new  ways 
in  which  persons  may  be  deceived,  of  which  I  had 
scarcely  any  conception." 

"  Portland,  September  8,  1808. 
"My  dea"Est  Parents, 

"  Last  Sabbath  I  preached  al!  day,  administered 
the  sacrament,  catechised  the  children,  and  spent  the 
evening  in  conversation;  and  yet,  instead  of  being 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  165 

laid  up,  as  I  feared,  I  am  full  as  well,  if  not  better, 
than  before.  Things  still  remain  pretty  much  as  they 
were.  A  great  many  seem  to  be  somewhat  alarmed, 
but  I  see  none  of  those  deep  convictions  of  sin  which 
I  used  to  see  5  it  is  only  the  mere  workings  of  natural 
fear.  Two  persons,  hoAvever,  who  had  entirely  lost 
their  convictions,  have  had  them  return  more  strongly 
than  ever  ;  so  that  we  are  not  entirely  deserted.  Peo- 
ple seem  to  be  a  little  better  reconciled  to  the  truth, 
and  several,  who  threatened  to  leave  the  congrega- 
tion, still  remain  quiet ;  but  whether  their  quietness 
proceeds  from  mere  stupidity,  or  from  a  conviction  of 
the  truth,  I  know  not.  The  church  seem  to  feel  the 
general  deadness  ;  and,  as  to  myself,  I  seem  palsied 
to  all  good,  though  pride,  or  selfishness,  or  habit,  still 
keeps  me  in  motion.  I  have  had  far  more  distressing 
experience  of  the  dreadful  depravity  of  my  nature, 
since  I  left  home,  than  ever  before.  O  the  heights 
and  depths,  the  lengths  and  breadths,  of  wickedness 
in  the  depraved  heart !  If  complaining  to  man  was 
of  service,  what  a  torrent  of  complaint  could  I  pour 
out !     But  it  will  not  avail. 

"  Sept.  14. 
"Mr.  C.  a  young  gentleman  of  independent  fortune, 
is  now  preaching  in  the  old  parish.  He  has  been  study- 
ing divinity  in  Scotland,  and  preaches  the  doctrines  of 
the  Gospel  in  a  clear,  distinguishing  manner.  As  his 
sentiments  were  known  before  he  came,  every  thing 
was  said  to  take  off  the  effect  of  his  preaching,  which 
could  be  said.  They  cannot,  however,  accuse  him  of 
interested  motives  in  preaching ;  and,  as  he  is  quite  a 
gentleman  in  his  manners,  I  hope  he  will  lessen  the 


I6ft  MEMOIR  or 

prejudices  of  some  of  his  fashionable  hearers  against 
the  Gospel. 

"  We  have  had  three  additions  to  the  church,  since 
my  return,  of  persons  who  gave  very  satisfactory  evi- 
dence ;  and  there  are  a  few  other  gleanings  of  our  late 
harvest  that  are  not  yet  gathered  in ;  but,  otherwise, 
we  are  in  a  most  stupid  state.  If  I  now  and  then  feel 
a  spark  of  life.^  the  moment  I  go  abroad  among  my  peo- 
ple it  goes  out,  and  I  always  come  home  quite  discou- 
raged. I  cannot  feel  thankful  as  I  ought  for  health 
restored. 

"  Oct.  10. 

"Mr.  K.  comes  back  this  week,  and  my  hard  duty  is 
over  without  any  ill  consequences.  I  have  had  some 
relief  of  late,  from  Mr.  C.'s  being  here,  at  the  old  pa- 
rish, and  preaching  such  doctrine  as  I  do." 

In  the  following  letter  to  his  mother  is  a  most  vivid 
sketch  of  the  workings  of  his  mind  in  his  hours  of  dis- 
couragement, as  well  as  of  those  considerations  by 
which  he  was  assisted  to  rise  above  it.  It  will  be  read 
with  thrilling  interest  :* 

"  Portland,  Oct.  25,  1808. 
"My  dearest  Mother, 

"I  have  just  received  your  letter  of  the  19th,  and, 
like  all  your  letters,  it  came  just  in  the  right  lime, 

*  His  letters  to  his  motlier  cnn  only  be  correctly  understood 
by  considering  that  he  h.id  unbounded  confidence  at  once  iu 
her  intelligence  and  piety,  and  her  intimate  acquaintance  with 
his  own  spiritual  joys  and  conflicts  ;  and  addressed  her  with  tiie 
most  perfect  familiarity  and  confidence,  in  language  that  well 
conveyed  to  her  his  meaning,  though  perhaps  hable  to  miscou- 
ceplion  by  others. 


EDWARD   PAYSOH.  167 

when  I  needed  it  most. — when  I  was  sinking,  faint- 
ing under  discouragements  and  difficulties.  I  feel  the 
force  of  all  you  say.  I  know  I  have  every  reason  in 
the  world  to  feel  grateful ;  but  this  knowledge  only 
renders  me  more  unhappy  that  I  cannot  feel  it.  Gra- 
titude is  a  plant  that  my  heart  will  never  produce,  only 
when  Heaven  is  pleased  to  place  it  there  ;  and  whether 
I  shall  ever  exercise  one  emotion  of  it  again  seems 
doubtful. 

"  God  is  showing  me  Avhat  is  in  my  heart  in  a  ten- 
fold clearer  light  than  ever  before  ;  and  though  I  know 
he  does  it  to  humble  and  prove  me,  that  he  may  do  me 
good  in  the  latter  end ;  yet,  while  he  permits,  my  mind 
will  be  like  the  troubled  sea,  which  cannot  rest,  whose 
waters  cast  up  mire  and  dirt ;  and  I  can  no  more  still 
it  than  I  can  still  the  elements.  I  know  how  I  ought 
to  feel,  and  I  know  how  wrong  it  is  to  feel  as  I  do; 
but  that  does  not  help  me  to  feel  otherwise.  I  know 
that  I  am  every  thing  that  is  bad  summed  up  in  one, 
and  that  I  deserve,  ten  thousand  times  over,  the  hot- 
est  place  in  hell ;  but  till  God  shall  be  pleased  to  melt 
my  heart  by  the  returning  beams  of  his  love,  this  sight 
of  sin  only  hardens  my  heart,  and  sinks  it  down  in 
sullen  indolence  and  despair.  I  loathe  and  detest  my- 
self for  having  such  a  temper,  and  know  that  my  in- 
ability to  restrain  it,  instead  of  being  any  excuse,  only 
renders  me  utterly  inexcusable.  I  know,  too,  that  all 
this  is  necessary  for  my  good.  I  know  Christ  is  near 
me,  though  I  cannot  perceive  him;  and  that,  in  his 
own  time,  which  will  be  the  best  time,  he  will  pluck 
me  out  of  this  terrible  deep  pit,  and  set  my  feet  on  a 
rock.  But  this  knowledge  does  not  prevent  my  being 
tossed  hither  and  thither  before  the  blast  of  tempta- 


168  MEMOIR  OP 

tioiij  like  a  leaf  before  a  whirlwind.  Meanwhile  I 
have  nowhere  to  look  for  comfort,  either  in  heaven  or 
earth.  My  prayer  seems  to  be  shut  out,  though  in 
reality  I  know  it  is  not.  My  people  are  raving  about 
my  hard  doctrine  ;  my  friends  seem  to  stand  aloof,  my 
health  begins  to  decline,  religion  decaying,  and  my 
heart  full  of  sin.  While  this  is  the  case,  what  can 
reasoning  or  arguments  avail  ?  Who  but  He  who 
caused  light  to  shine  out  of  darkness,  can  bring  light 
and  order  out  of  the  darkness  and  chaos  of  my  soul  ? 
"  Your  hopes  with  respect  to  Mr.  C.  are  frustrated. 
Notwithstanding  he  combined  almost  every  advantage, 
such  as  being  independent  in  property,  eloquent,  po- 
lished in  his  manners,  &c.  &c.  he  had  only  thirty /o7*, 
to  ninety  against  him.  Mr.  R.  has  a  unanimous  call 
at  Gorham ;  but  he  feels  afraid  to  settle,  because  he  is 
not  qualified.  I  tell  him  to  settle  by  all  means  ;  for,  if 
he  waits  a  little  longer,  he  never  will  feel  qualified  to 
settle  at  all.  If  I  had  waited  till  this  time,  I  surely 
should  never  have  been  a  minister.  I  should  give  up 
now,  but  whenever  I  think  of  it,  something  seems  to 
say,  '  What  are  you  going  to  give  up  for?  Supposing 
you  are  a  poor,  miserable,  blind,  weak,  stupid  worm  of 
the  dust,  with  mountains  of  opposition  before  you — is 
that  any  reason  for  discouragement?  Have  you  yet 
to  learn  that  God  has  chosen  the  weak  things  of  the 
world  to  confound  the  mighty,  and  that,  if  you  had  the 
talents  of  an  angel,  you  could  do  nothing  without  his 
assistance  ?  Has  he  not  already  helped  you  beyond  all 
ycu  dared  ask  or  think ;  and  has  not  he  promised  to 
help  you  in  future  ?  What  then  would  you,  poor,  weak, 
stupid,  cowardly  sinner,  have  more? — what  do  you 
keep  murmuring  about  all  the  time  ?    Why  don't  you 


EDWARD   PAYSON.  169 

glory  in  ybur  infirmities,  that  the  power  of  Christ  may 
rest  upon  you?'  To  all  this  I  can  answer  nothing,  and 
so  I  keep  dragging  on,  because  I  dare  not  leave  off 
without  a  discharge. 

"  We  have  still  a  few  inquirers,  and  one  or  two 
have  joined  the  church  every  communion,  which  is 
once  a  month.  The  church  continue  to  attend  private 
meetings  diligently.  We  know  of  four  old  professors 
who  have  been  building  on  sand,  but  now,  I  hope,  are 
on  Christ  5  but  we  have  still  a  wretched  set.  One  was 
yesterday  found  to  be  intemperate  who  has  been  a  pro- 
fessor several  years. 

"  I  am  not  quite  so  well  as  I  have  been,  but  am  as 
well  as  when  I  left  home,  and  might  have  been  better, 
if  I  could  learn  any  prudence." 

His  filial  love  suffered  no  abatement  in  consequence 
of  his  growing  years  and  increased  cares.  How  eager 
he  was  to  relieve  a  father's  burdened  spirit,  will  be 
seen  in  the  following  letter  of  condolence  : 

'•'  Portland^  November  13,  1808. 
"  My  dearest  Father, 

"  Yours  of  the  1st  instant  I  received  yesterday,  and 
its  contents  gave  me  no  little  uneasiness.  I  am  griev- 
ed that  such  depravity  should  be  displayed  by  one  so 
young,*  and  that  such  an  addition  should  be  made  to 
your  cares  and  sorrows.  How  I  long,  how  I  should  re- 
joice, to  say  something  that  v/ould  comfort  you,  my 
dear  father ;  something  that  Vv^ould  tend  to  lighten  the 
burden  of  life  which  you  mention !  but,  alas  !  I  am  a 
miserable  comforter,  and  cannot  even  comfort  myself. 

'  He  refers  to  a  young  female  domestic,  who  set  fire  to  his 
father's  house. 

m.  p.  15 


170  MEMOIR   OF 

I  have  been  preaching  to-day  on  Isaiah,  40  :  1,  Com- 
fort  ye.,  &c.  on  account  of  some  who  are  afflicted  with 
various  troubles ;  and  in  trying  to  comfort  them  I  ob- 
tained the  first  drop  of  consolation  which  I  have  lasted 
for  many  days ;  and  I  would  gladly  share  it  with  you, 
or  rather  give  you  all,  if  in  my  power.  But  I  dare  not 
presume  to  point  out  to  you  the  springs  of  consolation 
which  the  Gospel  affords,  and  at  which  you  have  often 
drank  and  been  refreshed.  But  if  I  were  writing  to 
another,  I  would  ask.  What  burden  can  be  heavy  to 
one  who  has  Omnipotence  for  his  support  ?  Is  there 
not  balm  in  Gilead  ?  Is  there  no  physician  there  ?  Is 
there  any  anguish  which  this  balm  cannot  alleviate? 
any  wound  which  this  Physician  cannot  heal  ?  I  would 
ask.  Can  he  need  comfort  who  knows  that  he  belongs 
to  the  friends  and  people  of  God  ?  that  his  sins  are  for- 
given, and  that  his  name  is  written  in  the  Lamb's  book 
of  life  ?  Is  it  not  strong  consolation,  consolation  suffi- 
cient to  support  the  soul  under  the  severest  trials,  to 
know  that  you  are  Avashed,  justified,  and  sanctified 
by  the  blood  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  and  the  Spirit  of  your 
God?  that  there  is  laid  up  for  you,  in  heaven,  a  crown 
of  glory,  an  inheritance  incorruptible,  undefiled,  and 
which  fadeth  not  away  ?  and  that  neither  death,  nor 
life,  nor  principalities,  nor  powers,  nor  things  present, 
nor  things  to  come,  shall  ever  be  able  to  separate  you 
from  the  love  of  God,  which  is  in  Christ  Jesus  your 
Lord  ?  Is  it  not  comfort  sufficient  to  satisfy  even  the 
boundless  desires  of  an  immortal  mind,  to  know  that 
you  are  a  temple  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  a  member  of 
Christ,  and  a  child  of  God?  that  the  blessed  angels 
are  your  guards  and  attendants  ?  that  the  Holy  Spirit 
is  your  Assistant  and  Sanctifier?  the  Son  of  God  your 


EDWARD   PAYSON.  171 

Friend,  your  Shepherd,  your  Intercessor,  and  Head? 
and  God  himself  your  Father,  your  God,  and  your  ex- 
ceeding great  reward  ?  Is  it  not  enough  to  know  that 
your  salvation  standeth  sure,  and  that  heaven  is  as 
certainly  yours  as  if  you  already  stood  on  Mount 
Zion,  singing  the  praises  of  redeeming  love  ?  Is  it  not 
enough  to  know  that  all  things  shall  work  together  for 
your  good,  through  time  and  eternity?  and  that  he 
who  spared  not  his  own  Son,  but  delivered  him  up  for 
us  all,  will  with  him  also  freely  give  us  all  things  ? 
In  some  such  manner  as  this  I  would  write  to  an  equal, 
to  one  whose  progress  in  religion  was  small,  whose 
trials  were  light,  and  whose  views  of  divine  things 
were  partial  and  confined,  like  my  own.  But  to  you, 
my  dear  father,  I  dare  not  write  thus,  for  you  know 
these  things  already  ;  and  you  have  doubtless  spiritual 
trials,  of  which  I  can  as  yet  form  no  conception,  and 
under  which,  consequently,  I  know  not  how  even  to 
try  to  comfort  you.  But  is  it  not  some  satisfaction  to 
reflect,  that  to  you  and  my  mother  I  shall  be  indebted, 
under  God,  for  everlasting  felicity ;  and  that,  if  I  am 
made  the  instrument  of  doing  any  good  in  the  world, 
it  will  be  owing  to  your  prayers,  precepts,  and  exam- 
ple ?  My  dear  father,  how  many  have  all  your  trials, 
and  none  of  your  comforts — no  God  to  go  to,  no  reli- 
gion to  support  them,  no  hopes  of  heaven,  no  divine 
consolations  to  soothe  their  sorrows  in  this  valley  of 
tears  !  Do,  then,  let  us  persuade  you  to  be  happy ;  for 
you  have  been  the  means  of  great  good  and  happi- 
ness to  us. 

"  I  dare  not  read  over  what  I  have  written,  and  I  am 
almost  afraid  to  send  it ;  for  I  write  in  a  hurry,  and 
much  exhausted,  both  in  body  and  miad,  by  the  labors 


172  MEMOIR    OF 

of  the  day ;  but  I  write  with  a  most  ardent  desire  to 
give  you  a  moment's  pleasure  ;  and  though  I  fear  I 
shall  not  succeed,  yet  I  hope  the  intention  will  be  ac- 
cepted. I  am  unfit  to  write,  for  it  is  very  late,  and  I 
am  very  sleepy,  very  much  tired,  and  my  head  aches  ; 
but  if  I  did  not  write  now,  I  must  wail  some  time,  and 
I  know  not  how  to  wait  a  single  day,  without  express- 
ing my  sorrow  for  your  new  troubles,  though  unable  to 
remove  them. 

"  My  health  remains  nearly  the  same  as  when  I 
wrote  last.  I  am  not  better,  and  I  know  not  that  I 
am  worse.  I  shall  not  fail  to  let  you  know  the  worst, 
as  I  promised  to  do.  You  need  therefore  be  under  no 
apprehensions  that  I  am  worse  than  I  represent.  The 
state  of  religion  continues  much  the  same,  only  the 
line  seems  to  be  drawing  between  the  friends  and  the 
enemies  of  Christ.  The  word  is  to  some  a  savor  of 
life  unto  life  ;  but  to  many  a  savor  of  death  unto  death. 
Many  among  us  seem  to  be  literally  mad  upon  their 
idols  ;  but  the  church  seem  to  be  growing  in  grace. 
There  is  a  society  among  them,  who  have  two  prayer- 
meetings  weekly,  besides  a  monthly  fast.  The  young 
converts,  as  yet,  promise  fair." 

Mr.  Payson's  pastoral  labors,  during  the  first  year, 
though  much  interrupted  by  sickness,  were  neverthe- 
less successful,  and,  by  the  blessing  of  God,  issued  in 
an  accession  of  twenty-nine  members  to  the  church. 
His  sermon,  at  the  first  anniversary  of  his  ordination, 
was  founded  on  2  Cor.  2: 15,  16,  in  which  he  illustra- 
ted, in  a  very  lucid  and  solemn  manner,  the  proposi- 
tions, that,  "  to  those  who  are  saved,  the  preaching  of 
the  Gospel  is  a  savor  of  life  unto  life  j"  that,  "  to  those 
who  perish,  it  is  a  savor  of  death  unto  death  j"  and 


EDWARD   PAYSON.  173 

that  "  the  labors  of  those  who  preach  it  are  in  both 
cases  acceptable  to  God,"  In  the  application  of  his 
discourse,  after  recognizing,  with  much  feeling,  his  or- 
dination vows,  and  the  changes,  by  death  and  other- 
wise, which  had  occurred  in  the  society,  he  acknow- 
ledges that  their  conduct  to  him  "  has  been  such  as 
not  only  to  afford  no  cause  of  complaint,  but  to  merit 
and  excite  his  Avarmest  gratitude,  and  most  earnest 
prayers  and  endeavors  to  promote  their  temporal  and 
spiritual  welfare.  The  patience  with  v/hich  you  have 
borne  with  the  infirmities  occasioned  by  a  long  and 
debilitating  illness ;  the  diligence  and  attention  with 
which  you  have  listened  to  the  ministrations  of  the 
word,  both  in  season  and  out  of  season  ;  and  the  many 
proofs  of  kindness  and  regard,  equally  unexpected  and 
undeserved,  which  you  have  displayed, — are  too  deeply 
.impressed  on  the  heart  and  memory  of  the  speaker  ever 
to  be  forgotten,  and  will  render  it  no  less  his  pleasure 
and  delight,  than  it  is  his  duty  wholly  to  spend  and 
be  spent  in  your  service.  But  merely  to  hear  the  mes- 
sages of  God  attentively,  and  to  treat  with  kindness 
those  who  bring  them,  is  not  sufficient ;  for  not  the 
hearers,  but  the  doers  of  the  word  shall  be  justified. 

"  Permit  me,  therefore,  to  ask  whether  you,  my 
friends,  have  done  more  than  this  ?  According  to  the 
measure  of  ability  given  me,  I  have  endeavored  plain- 
ly to  declare  unto  you  the  whole  counsel  of  God  ;  and 
though,  through  an  anxious  desire  to  strip  off  all  dis- 
guise from  the  truth,  and  prevent,  so  far  as  possible, 
all  error  and  mistake,  the  speaker  may  have  expressed 
himself  unguardedly,  and  only  irritated  where  he 
meant  to  convince,  yet  still  it  is  the  truth  which  he 
has  proclaimed.    And  we  would  ask  you,  most  seri- 

M.  p.  ]5* 


174  MEMOIR   OP 

ously  and  affectionately,  whether  it  has  been  to  your 
souls  a  savor  of  life  unto  life,  or  of  death  unto  death? 
"  Light  as  it  may  appear  to  us,  it  is,  my  friends,  a 
dreadful  thing  to  trifle  with  the  law  and  gospel  of  Je- 
hovah.    Nor  can  a  greater  curse  befall  a  people,  than 
to  hear  his  word,  if  they  neglect  to  perform  it.  A  flood 
of  waters,  or  a  deluge  of  fire,  is  comparatively  a  bless- 
ing.   There  are,  doubtless,  many  such  triflers  here, 
who  fully  resolve,  at  some  future  time,  to  repent  and 
believe  the  Gospel.  But  on  what  are  your  hopes  found- 
ed ?     Salvation  is  now  more  distant  from  you  than 
ever.     For   years  you   have   been  hardening  in  sin. 
Every  sermon  you  have  heard  has  insensibly  rendered 
you  w^orse.  You  have  already  heard  every  motive,  ar- 
gument, and  consideration  which  the  Scriptures  af- 
ford; and  heard  them  in  vain.  The  whole  storehouse 
of  spiritual  medicines  has  been  thrown  open  for  your 
relief,  but  your  moral  diseases,  instead  of  being  healed", 
have  become  more  inveterate.  We  can  only  present  to 
you    again   the   same  remedies  which  have  already 
proved  unsuccessful;  for  the  art  of  man  and  the  word 
of  God  afford  no  other.     Humanly  speaking,  then,  it 
is  evident  you  must  perish.     But  though  your  reco- 
very is  thus  impossible  with  man,  it  is  not  with  God. 
Blessed  be  his  name  !  there  is  yet  balm  in  Gilead,  and 
a  Physician  there  who  can  heal  when  mortal  physi- 
cians fail.    But,  alas  !  you  will  not  apply  to  him.  You 
will  not  believe  you  are  sick;  you  will  not  be  persuad- 
ed to  seek  eternal  life    You  still  go  on  to  neglect  the 
Gospel ;  and  perhaps  this  very  warning  will  prove  to 
some  of  you  a  savor  of  death  unto  death.    My  friends, 
how  trying  is  the  situation  of  the  ministers  of  Christ, 
if  they  have  any  love  for  their  people,  or  regard  for 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  175 

their  souls  !  Thev  are  like  a  man  placed  on  the  hrink 
of  a  precipice,  to  warn  travelers,  that,  if  they  proceed, 
they  will  inevitably  be  dashed  in  pieces.  The  travel- 
ers arrive,  listen  to  the  warning,  and  then,  with  a  few 
exceptions,  hold  on  their  course,  and  perish  before  the 
eyes  of  him  who  labored  in  vain  to  save  them. 

"  Such,  but  infinitely  more  distressing,  is  our  situa- 
tion. We  stand  at  the  entrance  of  the  way  of  life,  to 
warn  our  people  that  they  are  in  the  broad  road  to  de- 
struction, and  to  urge  and  entreat  them  to  turn  aside 
and  be  happy.  Many  of  them  hear  our  entreaties  w4th 
some  degree  of  attention  and  regard.  They  engage 
our  affections  by  kind  offices  ;  we  labor  with  them,  tell 
them  they  are  deeply  rooted  in  our  hearts  and  afiec- 
tions ;  and  then,  in  defiance  of  all  our  prayers  and 
tears,  they  hurry  away  and  perish  before  our  eyes,  in 
a  manner  too  dreadful  to  be  conceived.  If  this  be  not 
agony,  disappointment,  and  distress,  what  is?  The 
agonies  of  a  patriot,  trembling  for  his  country — of  a 
wife,  watching  an  expiring  husband — or  of  a  mother, 
trembling  for  a  diseased  child — are  nothing  to  those 
which  he  must  feel  who  knows  the  worth  of  an  im- 
mortal soul,  who  considers  what  it  is  to  be  lost,  and 
yet  sees  his  people  perishing  before  him. 

"  O  my  friends,  my  dear  friends  !  how  do  our  spirits 
droop,  and  our  hearts  sicken  with  anguish  and  despair, 
when  we  consider,  that,  notwithstanding  all  we  can 
do,  many  here  present  will  finally  find  the  Gospel  a 
savor  of  death  unto  death  !  and  all  our  exertions  will 
answer  no  other  purpose  than  to  increase,  beyond  con- 
ception, their  misery  and  guilt !  O  ye  precious,  im- 
mortal souls  !  ye  spirits  that  will  never  die !  ye  heirs 
of  eternity,  hear  I — and  obey,  ere  it  is  too  late,  the  joy- 


176  MEMOIR   OF 

ful  sound  of  the  Gospel.  O,  if  there  be  any  avenue  to 
conviction,  tell  us  where  it  lies.  Tell,  O  tell  us,  how 
we  may  draw,  or  drive,  or  lead  you  to  Christ.  Tell  us 
how  we  may  bribe  you  not  to  be  miserable  for  ever. 
Almost  are  we  ready  to  say  with  the  apostle — We 
could  even  wish  ourselves  accursed  from  Christ  for 
our  people,  our  friends  according  to  the  flesh." 


CHAPTER   X. 


His  dependence  on  God ;  its  influence  on  himself  and  church — 
His  uniform  purpose  to  know  nothing  save  Jesus  Christ 
and  Him  crucijied — Illustration — Letters — Resolutions — In- 
creased success. 

The  preparation  of  his  first  anniversary  sermon, 
from  which  some  extracts  have  been  taken,  was  at- 
tended by  long-continued  and  intense  private  devo- 
tion ;  and  in  preaching  it,  he  "  had  much  assistance, 
and  many  were  in  tears."  He  looked  forward  through 
the  year  to  come  with  the  same  prayerful  solemnity 
which  distinguished  his  retrospect  of  the  past.  In 
view  of  his  amazing  responsibilities,  he  went  for  aid 
"to  the  throne  of  grace;  and"  he  exclaims—"  O  the 
unspeakable  goodness  and  condescension  of  God  ! — 
did  not  go  in  vain."  His  complaints  still  hung  like 
a  clog  to  him,  so  that  his  body  could  but  partially 
serve  the  ever-active  spirit  by  which  it  was  animated. 
This  calamity  was  at  no  time  more  trying  than  when 
it  prevented  him  from  preachiD  ;  his  usual  Thursday 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  177 

evening  lecture.  On  one  such  evening  he  makes  this 
record : 

"  Dec,  30.  Had  a  sweet  season  in  prayer  this  morn- 
ing j  and  felt  fervent  love  to  my  Savior,  and  desires 
that  he  might  be  glorified.  Vv^as  much  assisted  in 
writing  upon  a  subject  which  led  me  to  insist  upon 
the  constraining  power  of  Christ's  love;  and,  blessed 
be  God,  I  was  enabled  in  some  measure  to  feel  my 
subject.  Was  prevented  from  preaching  by  the  wea- 
ther and  the  state  of  my  health ;  which  was  a  great 
disappointment." 

It  was  Mr.  Payson's  uniform,  if  not  invariable  prac- 
tice, to  use  a  written  sermon  on  one  part  of  every  Sab- 
bath ;  and  yet  it  is  worthy  of  particular  observation 
how  much  he  sought  and  valued  divine  assistance  in 
'preaching.  His  dependence  on  the  Spirit's  aid  was, 
apparently,  as  real  and  exclusive  as  if  he  had  made 
no  previous  preparation.  He  was  greatly  distressed 
when  engaged  in  pronouncing  a  discourse,  unaccom- 
panied with  a  consciousness  of  such  assistance,  and 
proportionately  grateful  when  favored  with  it.  A  sin- 
gle extract  will  exhibit  his  feelings  on  this  subject: 

'•  Sabbath.  Preached  without  the  least  appa- 
rent assistance.  Was  so  distressed  that  I  left  the 
sermon  unfinished,  and  felt  as  if  the  people  would 
leave  the  house.  Went  home,  feeling  ashamed  to 
look  any  body  in  the  face.  Was  ready  to  give  up  in 
despair  ;  .  .  .  .  and  had  scarcely  any  hope  that  I  should 
ever  again  behold  the  light  of  God's  countenance. 
Yet  such  is  the  inconceivable  goodness  of  God  to  his 
perverse  and  froward  children,  that  he  was  pleased, 
even  then,  to  melt  my  stubborn  heart  with  the  dis- 
plays of  his  love.     Felt  so  overwhelmed  with  a  sense 


178  MEMOIR  or 

of  his  goodness  and  my  own  ingratitude,  that  I  could 
not  look  up,  or  hardly  venture  to  throw  myself  at  his 
feet.  My  heart  was  broken  within  me,  to  think  that 
I  should  still  ungratefully  requite  such  infinite  good- 
ness." 

If  this  reliance  on  God  for  help  in  preaching  was 
not  peculiar  to  him,  but  common — as  it  probably  is 
in  a  degree — to  every  evangelical  minister,  the  know- 
ledge of  the  fact  would  perhaps  weaken,  if  not  re- 
move the  prejudice  which  exists  in  many  minds 
against  any  use  of  "notes"  by  a  preacher. 

His  diary,  during  this  winter,  bears  the  marks  of  a 
rapidly  advancing  maturity  in  the  Christian  life.  Who 
would  not  emulate  the  state  of  mind  which  is  thus 
described ! 

"  Was  favored  with  clear  views  of  the  match- 
less goodness  of  Christ,  and  my  own  vileness.  Was 
so  overwhelmed  and  astonished  that  he  should  again 
look  upon  me  w^ith  favor,  that  I  could  scarce  believe 
it  possible.  Seemed  to  be  drawn  away  from  self,  and 
to  feel  more  desire  that  God  should  be  glorified  than 
that  I  should  be  happy.  This  is  the  only  heaven  I 
aspire  to ;  and  to  have  such  a  temper  appeared  more 
desirable  than  ten  thousand  worlds.  Felt  sweetly 
broken-hearted  and  grieved  to  think  how  I  had  sin- 
ned against  such  a  Savior,  and  thought  I  should  be 
willing  to  undergo  any  sufferings,  if  I  might  never 
offend  him  again.  Longed  to  see  him  glorified  by 
others  ;  for  I  almost  despaired  of  ever  glorifying  him 
myself." 

And  who,  that  reads  the  following,  and  is  inform 
ed  that  similar  records  continue  to  occur  at  short  in 
tervals,  will  any  longer  wonder  that  success  crowned 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  179 

his  labors  ?  The  first  extract  shows  that  the  duties 
which  he  urged  on  others  were  first  practiced  by  him- 
self: 

'"Jan.  2,  1809.  Rose  very  early,  and  enjoyed  a 
sweet  season  in  secret  prayer.  Spent  the  day  in  vi- 
siting. In  the  evening  felt  the  worth  of  souls  lie 
with  peculiar  weight  upon  my  mind,  and  was  enabled 
to  wrestle  fervently  for  divine  influence. 

"  Jan.  3.  Was  favored  this  morning  with  such  a 
view  of  the  worth  of  souls,  that  I  could  not  rest  at 
home,  but  went  out  to  visit  my  people,  and  stir  up  the 
members  of  the  church  to  pray  for  divine  influences. 
Never  felt  such  love  for  the  people  of  God  as  this  day. 
Seemed  willing  to  wash  their  feet,  or  perform  the  low- 
est offices,  because  they  belonged  to  Christ.  Longed 
all  day  to  do  something  for  the  glory  of  God  and  the 
conversion  of  sinners.  Wished  for  health,  that  I  might 
employ  my  time  for  God." 

A  heart  so  intent  upon  seeking  the  salvation  of  men 
might  well  be  supposed  to  dictate  language  like  the 
following,  when  the  tenement  in  which  it  was  lodged 
was  too  feeble  to  be  removed  from  its  resting-place. 

"  Jan.  7.  During  the  past  week  the  word  of  the 
Lord  has  been  like  a  fire  shut  up  in  my  bones.  I  long 
to  preach,  but  cannot.  O  that  I  may  be  patient  and 
resigned  !" 

The  minister,  who  furnishes  appropriate  employ- 
ment for  the  members  of  his  church,  performs  one  of 
the  most  useful  services  connected  with  human  agen- 
cy, and  is  the  least  likely  to  labor  in  vain  and  spend 
his  strength  for  naught.  A  conviction  of  personal  re- 
sponsibility for  the  prosperity  of  religion,  deeply  fixed 
in  the  heart  of  every  private  Christian — a  responsibi- 


180  MEMOIR  OP 

lity  which  all  are  but  too  ready  to  throw  off  upon  their 
minister — Avill,  if  any  thing  can,  render  them  circum- 
spect, "  instant  in  prayer,"  and  '^  always  abounding  in 
the  work  of  the  Lord."  It  is  one  of  the  best  prepara- 
tions for  hearing  the  word  with  profit :  for  with  it  they 
will  listen,  not  to  cavil,  not  to  be  amused,  but  for  edi- 
fication, and  that  they  may  learn  "  what  the  Lord 
would  have  them  do."  The  pastor,  who  is  sustained 
by  the  daily  fervent  prayers  of  his  flock,  and  by  their 
frequent  united  prayers,  has  a  ground  for  encourage- 
ment and  hope  that  will  not  fail  him.  The  Spirit  will 
not  leave  that  people  unvisited,  who  so  appreciate  his 
influences  as  to  seek  them  daily  with  ardor  of  desire, 
and  to  v/hom  their  descent  would  be  as  welcome  and 
as  refreshing  "  as  cold  waters  to  a  thirsty  soul."  It 
was,  therefore,  a  vv-ell-advised  step  in  Mr.  Pay  son,  to 
engage  the  prayers  of  the  church  for  a  blessing  on  the 
word  dispensed  by  him.  and  for  a  general  revival  of 
religion.  The  great  importance  of  the  duty  justified 
his  special  exertions  to  secure  its  performance,  and 
both  he  and  they  had  much  reason  to  rejoice  in  the 
issue. 

"  Portland,  Jan.  10,  1809. 
"My  dearest  Mother, 

"  I  have  been  for  some  time  endeavoring  to  estab- 
lish among  us  what  are  called  '  Aaron  and  Hur  So- 
cieties,' i.  e.  little  collections  of  four,  five,  or  more 
persons,  to  meet  before  service  on  Sabbath  morning, 
and  spend  an  hour  in  praying  for  a  blessing  on  the 
minister  and  ordinances.  They  began  new  year's  day, 
and  we  seemed  to  have  an  immediate  answer ;  for  the 
meeting  was  unusually  solemn,  and  we  have  reason 


EDWARD   FAYSOX.  ISl 

to  hope  the  word  was  not  preached  in  rain.  Our  hopes 
of  another  revival  are  increasing,  as  there  seems  to  be 
an  unusual  spirit  of  prayer,  and  several  persons  have 
lately  been  awakened.  Hov/ever,  God's  ways  are  not 
as  our  ways-,  and  we  may  be  disappointed.  Indeed, 
it  seems  impossible  to  me  that  there  should  be  any 
attention  so  long  as  I  am  here.  I  am  harassed  with 
such  violent  temptations,  from  morning  till  night,  and 
from  night  till  morning,  with  scarce  a  moment's  inter- 
mission, that  I  am  utterly  weary  of  life,  and  ready  to 
despair.  It  seems  as  if  I  must  one  day  perish  by  the 
hands  of  this  accursed  Saul,  which  seeks  to  destroy 
me.  When  I  have  a  moment's  ease,  the  word  of  the 
Lord  is  like  a  fire  shut  up  in  my  bones,  and  it  seems 
as  if  I  must  preach,  if  I  die  for  it,  even  to  stocks  and 
stones,  if  men  will  not  hear;  and  yet  I  can  only  preach 
once  on  the  Sabbath,  and  am  obliged  to  refrain  all  the 
week.  This  sets  melancholy  to  work,  and  gives  the 
adversary  great  advantage  over  me.  Yet  I  appear  to 
know  it  is  all  right  and  necessary ;  but  this  knowledge 
does  not  comfort  and  strengthen  me  as  it  ought.  Truly 
the  righteous  scarcely  are  saved ;  and  we  must  through 
much  tribulation  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  God.  Still 
hov/ever,  externally,  my  cup  runs  over  with  blessings. 
My  people  are  so  kind  it  makes  me  utterly  ashamed, 
and  Mr.  K.  is  like  a  father  to  me  in  every  thing.  But, 
mstead  of  feeling  grateful,  and  being  able  to  glorify 
God  for  his  goodness,  I  am  so  overwhelmed  with  temp- 
tations that  I  can  do  nothing  but  sit  stiil  and  tremble 
!est  they  hurry  me  into  some  open  sin,  which  will 
oring  dishonor  on  the  cross.  O  my  dearest  mother, 
Jo  pity  me,  and  pray  for  me;  for  I  am  sifted  like 
wheat." 
M.  p.  16 


182  MEMOIR    OP 

The  customs  of  society  often  render  a  minister'a 
presence  unavoidable  on  public  occasions,  or  celebra- 
tions of  a  nature  not  easily  defined,  but  which  are  of 
a  mixed  character,  partly  secular  and  partly  religious. 
But  Mr.  Payson  would  ncA'^er  degrade  his  official  cha- 
racter. Whererer  he  v/as  present,  there  the  ambassa- 
dor of  Christ  '•  stood  confest."    He  never  would  con- 
sent to  be  the  mere  amusing  companion,  or  entertain- 
ing speaker.  Those  whom  he  addressed,  whatever  the 
occasion,  Avere  reminded  that  they  Avere  probationers 
for  eternity.    Very  pleasing  evidence  of  this  has  been 
found  in  some  copious  remnants  of  a  performance, 
which,  in  March  of  this  year,  he  addressed  to  a  Mu- 
sical Society.    Who  would  look  for  a  proof  of  the  ex- 
istence and  perfections  of  God  on  such  an  occasion  ? 
for  a  history  of  the  apostacy  of  angels — of  the  fall  and 
recovery  of  man — and  of  the  ultimate  destination  and 
employment  of  redeemed  sinners?     Yet  all  this,  "  in 
strains  as  sweet  as  angels  use,"  was  wrought  into  an 
address  on  music.     Were  it  his  object  to  pronounce 
an  encomium  on  Music,  he  might,  he  observes  in  the 
introduction,   from  the  ample  materials  furnished  by 
orators,    poets,  historians,  and  philosophers  of  past 
ages,  "  easily  compose  a  rich  and  unfading  wreath  of 
applause,  with  which  to  encircle  and  adorn  her  brows." 
But, 

"  Without  resorting  to  the  hyperbolical  expressions 
of  poetry,  or  to  the  dreams  and  fables  of  pagan  mytho- 
logy, to  the  wonders  said  to  be  performed  by  the  lyre 
of  Amphion  and  the  harp  of  Orpheus — I  might  place 
before  you  the  prophet  of  Jehovah  composing  his  ruf- 
fled spirits  by  the  soothing  influence  of  music,  that  he 
might  be  suitably  prepared  to  receive  a  message  from 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  183 

the  Lord  of  Hosts.  1  might  present  to  your  view  the 
evil  spirit,  by  which  jealous  and  melancholy  Saul  was 
afflicted,  flying,  baffled  and  defeated,  from  the  anima- 
ting and  harmonious  tones  of  David's  harp.  I  might 
show  you  the  same  David,  the  defender  and  avenger 
of  his  flock,  the  champion  and  bulwark  of  his  country, 
the  conqueror  of  Goliath,  the  greatest  warrior  and  mo- 
narch of  his  age,  laying  down  the  sword  and  the  scep- 
tre to  take  up  his  harp,  and  exchanging  the  titles  of 
victor  and  king  for  the  more  honorable  title  of  the 

sweet  Psalmist  of  Israel But  I  appear  not 

before  you  as  her  advocate ;  for  in  that  character  my 
exertions  would  be  superfluous.  She  is  present  to 
speak  for  herself,  and  assert  her  own  claims  to  our 
notice  and  approbation.  You  have  heard  her  voice  in 
the  performances  of  this  evening ;  and  those  of  you, 
whom  the  God  of  nature  has  favored  with  a  capacity 
of  feeling  and  understanding  her  eloquent  language, 
will,  I  trust,  acknowledge  that  she  has  pleaded  her 
own  cause  with  triumphant  success  ;  has  given  sen- 
sible demonstration  that  she  can  speak,  not  only  to 
the  ear,  but  to  the  heart;  and  that  she  possesses  irre- 
sistible power  to  soothe,  delight,  and  fascinate  the 
soul.  Nor  was  it  to  the  senses  alone  that  she  spake ; 
but  while,  in  harmonious  sounds,  she  maintained  her 
claims  and  asserted  her  powers,  in  a  still  and  small, 
but  convincing  voice,  she  addressed  herself  directly 
to  reason  and  conscience,  proclaiming  the  most  so- 
lemn and  important  truths — truths  which  perhaps  some 
of  you  did  not  hear  or  regard,  but  which  deserve  and 

demand  our  most  serious  attention With  the 

same  irresistible  evidence  as  if  an  angel  had  spoken 
from  heaven,  she  said,  There  is  a  God— and  that  God 


184  MEMOIR  or 

is  good  and  benevolent.  For,  my  friends,  who  but  God 
could  have  tuned  the  human  voice,  and  given  harmony 
to  sounds  ?  Who,  but  a  good  and  benevolent  God, 
would  have  given  us  senses  capable  of  perceiving  and 
enjoying  this  harmony  ?  Who,  bitt  such  a  bemg,  would 
have  opened  a  way  through  the  ear  for  its  passage  to 
the  soul  ?  Could  blind  chance  have  produced  these 
wonders  of  wisdom  ?  or  a  malignant  being  these  mi- 
racles of  goodness  ?  Could  they  have  caused  this  ad- 
mirable fitness  between  harmony  of  sounds  and  the 
organs  of  sense  by  which  it  is  perceived?  No.  They 
would  have  either  given  us  no  senses,  or  left  them  im- 
perfect, or  rendered  every  sound  discordant  and  harsh. 
IVith  the  utmost  propriety,  therefore,  may  Jehovah 
ask,  Who  hath  made  man's  mouth,  and  planted  the 
ear?  Have  not  I,  the  Lord?  With  the  utmost  justice, 
also,  may  he  demand  of  us  that  all  our  musical  powers 
and  faculties  should  be  consecrated  to  his  service,  and 
employed  in  celebrating  his  praises.  To  urge  you  dili- 
gently and  cheerfully  to  perform  this  pleasing,  reason- 
able, and  indispensable  duty,  is  the  principal  object  of 
the  speaker.  Not,  then,  as  the  advocate  of  music,  but 
as  the  ambassador  of  that  God  whose  being  and  be- 
nevolence music  proclaims,  do  I  now  address  this  as- 
sembly, entreating  every  individual,  without  delay,  to 
adopt  and  practice  the  resolution  of  the  royal  Psalm- 
ist— /  will  si7ig  unto  the  Lord  as  long  as  I  live  ;  J 
will  sing  praise  to  my  God  while  I  have  my  being.-^ 
Psalm  104  :  33. 

He  then  carries  his  hearers  back  to  the  origin  of  the 
world,  when  "  every  thing  was  very  good,"  and  "  all 
creation  harmonized  together.  All  its  parts,  animate 
and  inanimate,  like  the  voices  and  instruments  of  a 


EDWARD   PAYSON.  185 

well  regulated  concert,  helped  to  compose  a  perfect 
and  beautiful  whole;  and  so  exquisite  was  the  har- 
mony thus  produced,  that  in  the  whole  compass  of 
creation  not  one  jarring  or  discordant  note  was  heard, 

even  by  the  perfect  ear  of  God  himself. The 

blessed  angels  of  light  began  the  universal  chorus, 
'  when  the  morning  stars  sang  together,  and  all  the 
sons  of  God  shouted  for  joy.'  "  He  describes  "  the 
music  of  the  spheres" — the  part  which  the  heavenly 
bodies  performed  in  the  concert — and  descends  through 
the  animate  creation,  down  to  the  meanest  thing  that 
hath  life : 

"E'en  the  dumb  fish  that  swam  the  flood, 
"Leaped  up,  and  meant  the  praise  of  God." 

"  Of  this  universal  concert  man  was  appointed  the 
terrestrial  leader,  and  was  furnished  with  natural  and 
moral  powers,  admirably  fitted  for  this  blessed  and 
glorious  employment.  His  body,  exempt  from  dis- 
solution, disease,  and  decay,  w^as  like  a  perfect  and 
well-strung  instrument,  which  never  gave  forth  a 
false  or  uncertain  sound,  but  always  answered,  with 
exact  precision,  the  wishes  of  his  nobler  part,  the 
soul.  His  heart  did  not  then  belie  his  tongue,  when 
he  sung  the  praises  of  his  Creator ;  but  all  the  emo- 
tions felt  by  the  one  were  expressed  by  the  other, 
from  the  high  notes  of  ecstatic  admiration,  thankful- 
ness, and  joy,  down  to  the  deep  tones  of  the  most 
profound  veneration  and  humility.  In  a  word,  his 
heart  was  the  throne  of  celestial  love  and  harmony, 
and  his  tongue  at  once  the  organ  of  their  will  and  the 
sceptre  of  their  power. 

"  We  are  told  in  ancient  story,  of  a  statue,  formed 

M.  p.  16* 


186  MEMOIR    OF 

with  such  wonderful  art,  that,  whenever  it  was  visit- 
ed by  the  rays  of  the  rising  sun,  it  gave  forth,  in  ho- 
nor of  that  luminary,  the  most  melodious  and  ravish- 
ing sounds.  In  like  manner  man  was  originally  so 
constituted,  by  skill  divine,  that,  whenever  he  con- 
templated the  rays  of  wisdom,  power,  and  goodness, 
emanating  from  the  great  Sun  of  the  moral  system, 
the  ardent  emotions  of  his  soul  spontaneously  burst 
forth  in  the  most  pure  and  exalted  strains  of  adoration 
and  praise.  Such  was  the  world,  such  was  man  at 
the  creation.  Even  in  the  eye  of  the  Creator  all  was 
good  ;  for,  wherever  he  turned,  he  saw  only  his  own 
image,  and  heard  nothing  but  his  own  praises.  Love 
beamed  from  every  countenance  ;  harmony  reigned 
in  every  breast,  and  flowed  mellifluous  from  every 
tongue  ;  and  the  grand  chorus  of  praise,  begun  by  rap- 
tured seraphs  round  the  throne,  and  heard  from  hea- 
ven to  earth,  was  re-echoed  back  from  earth  to  hea- 
ven; and  this  blissful  sound,  loud  as  the  archangel's 
trump,  and  sAveet  as  the  melody  of  his  golden  harp, 
rapidly  spread,  and  was  received  from  world  to  w^orld, 
and  floated  in  gently-undulating  waves,  even  to  the 
farthest  bounds  of  creation." 

To  this  primeval  harmony  he  exhibits  the  lamenta- 
ble contrast  which  followed,  Vv^hen  sin  "  untuned  the 
tongues  of  angels,  and  changed  their  blissful  songs  of 
praise  into  the  groans,  of  wretchedness,  the  execra- 
tions of  malignity,  the  blasphemies  of  impiety,  and 
the  ravings  of  despair.  Storms  and  tempests,  earth- 
quakes and  convulsions,  fire  from  above  and  deluges 
from  beneath,  which  destroyed  the  order  of  the  natu- 
ral world,  proved  that  its  baleful  influence  had  reach- 
ed our  earth,  and  afforded  a  faint  emblem  of  the  jars 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  187 

and  disorders  which  sin  had  introduced  into  the  mo- 
ral system.  Man's  corporeal  part,  that  lyre  of  a  thou- 
sand strings,  tuned  by  the  finger  of  God  himself,  des- 
tined to  last  as  long  as  the  soul,  and  to  be  her  instru- 
ment in  ofiering  up  eternal  praise,  was,  at  one  blow, 
shattered,  unstrung,  and  almost  irreparably  ruined. 
His  soul,  all  whose  powers  and  faculties,  like  the 
chords  of  an  ^olian  harp,  once  harmoniously  vibra- 
ted to  every  breath  of  the  divine  Spirit,  and  ever  re- 
turned a  sympathizing  sound  to  the  lones  of  kind- 
ness and  love  from  a  fellows-being,  now  became  sclent, 
and  insensible  to  melody,  or  produced  only  the  jarring 
and  discordant  notes  of  envy,  malice,  hatred,  and  re- 
venge. The  mouth,  filled  with  cursing  and  bitter- 
ness, w^as  set  against  the  heavens ;  the  tongue  was 
inflamed  with  the  fire  of  hell.  Every  voice,  instead 
of  uniting  in  the  song  of  '  Glory  to  God  in  the  highest,' 
was  now  at  variance  with  the  voices  around  it,  and, 
in  barbarous  and  dissonant  strains,  sung  praise  to  it- 
self, or  was  employed  in  muttermg  sullen  murmurs 
against  the  Most  High — in  venting  slanders  against 
fellow-creatures — in  celebrating  and  deifying  some 
worthless  idol,  or  in  singing  the  triumphs  of  intem- 
perance, dissipation  and  excess.  The  noise  of  vio- 
lence and  cruelty  was  heard  mingled  with  the  boast- 
ing of  the  oppressor,  and  the  cry  of  the  oppressed,  and 
the  complaints  of  the  wretched  ;  while  the  shouts  of 
embattled  hosts,  the  crash  of  arms,  the  brazen  clangor 
of  trumpets,  the  shrieks  of  the  wounded,  the  groans  of 
the  dying,  and  all  the  horrid  din  of  war,  together  with 
the  w^ailings  of  those  whom  it  had  rendered  widows 
and  orphans,  overwhelmed  and  drowned  every  sound 
of  benevolence,  praise,  and  love.     Such  is  the  jargon 


188  MEMOIR   OF 

which  sin  has  introduced — such  the  discord  which, 
from  every  quarter  of  our  globe,  has  long  ascended  up 
into  the  ears  of  the  Lord  of  hosts." 

He  next  adverts  to  the  mission  of  Jesus  Christ,  fol- 
lowed by  the  descent  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  to  restore 
harmony,  when  "  those  benevolent  beings,  who  cele- 
brated the  birth-day  of  creation,  joined  with  tenfold 
transports  in  singing  glory  to  God  in  the  highest,  that 
there  was  again  on  earth  peace  and  good-will  to  men, 
and  that  the  vacancy  which  sin  had  occasioned  among 
the  choirs  and  armies  of  heaven  would  soon  be  filled 
by  individuals    selected  from  the  human  race,    and 
taught  to  sing  the  song  of  the  Lamb,  by  the  influences 
of  the  Spirit  of  harmony  himself     To  teach  mankind 
this  sacred  song,  and  thus  prepare  them  to  fill  the 
places  and  perform  the  offices  of  those  angels  who 
kept  not  their  first  estate,  is  the  great  object  of  God 
in  the  preservation  of  the  world,  in  its  various  revo- 
lutions, and  in  all  the  dispensations  of  his  providence 
and  grace ;  while  to  learn  it,  comprises  our  duly  here, 
as  to  sing  it  will  constitute  our  employment  and  hap- 
piness hereafter.     This    song,    however,    which    St. 
John  heard  sung  upon  Mount  Zion  by  the  one  hun- 
dred and  forty  and  four  thousand,  can  be  taught  by 
none  but  the  Spirit  of  God." — He  then  urges  the  im- 
portance of  piety  in  singers,  especially  such  as  lead 
in  this  part  of  worship,  and  enforces  the  duty  of  pa- 
rents to  cultivate  musical  talents  in  their  children. 
"  Were  this  duty  duly  performed,  from  proper  mo- 
tives, we  should  soon  see  a  sight  which  was  perhaps 
never  seen  on  earth — a  whole  assembly  employed  in 
singing  praise  to  God.     But,  as  this  pleasing  sight  is 
probably  reserved  for  the  celestial  world,  let  the  lead- 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  189 

ers  in  this  delightful  part  of  religious  worship  remem- 
ber, that  if  holiness  becomes  God's  house  for  ever — if 
it  is  required  that  those  who  bear  the  vessels  of  the 
Lord  should  be  holy — much  more  is  it  required  of 
those  who  are  the  mouth  of  his  people  in  singing  his 
praise."  In  a  solemn  application  he  carries  his  hear- 
ers forward  to  the  time  when  "  every  tongue  in  the  as- 
sembly will  be  employed  in  praising  or  blaspheming — 
every  individual  be  an  angel  or  a  demon." 

There  is  a  luxuriance  in  his  style,  at  the  time  of 
writing  this  address,  which  was  considerably  chas- 
tened in  later  years.  Taken  as  a  whole,  the  perform- 
ance, while  it  was  in  perfect  unison  with  the  occasion, 
Vv'as  admirably  adapted  to  promote  the  great  object 
which  was  always  uppermost  in  his  mind,  and  may 
serve  as  a  specimen  of  his  talent  for  making  every  oc- 
casion speak  with  force  to  the  consciences  of  men. 

Bodily  infirmity  continued  still  to  cramp  and  repress 
his  energies,  and  he  had  already  "  been  assured  by  his 
phys^^cian  that  his  complaints  were  mortal." 

"  April  26.  Was  excessively  weak,  so  that  I  could 
do  nothing  to  any  purpose.  Longed  to  lay  my  feeble 
body  in  the  grave,  where  the  wicked  cease  from  trou- 
bling, and  the  weary  are  at  rest ;  not  that  I  was  weary 
of  God's  service,  if  I  could  serve  him  with  more 
strength  and  sincerity ;  but  my  mind  sunk  under  the 
weakness  of  my  body." 

''Portland,  May  11,  1809. 

"  The  Spirit  seems  still  to  accompany  the  word 

^mong  us,  and  the  attention  to  religion  is  rather  in- 
creasing. Several  new  instances  of  conviction  have 
occurred  lately,  which  now  bid  fair  to  be  abiding.  *  *  * 


190  MEMOIR    OF 

"  We  have,  this  year,  twenty  tithingmen^  instead  ol 
ten  last  year,  and  none  the  year  before ;  and  are  in  a 
fair  way  to  have  the  town  reformed,  at  least  externally. 
Several  of  the  most  conspicuous  leaders  in  the  race  of 
pleasure  and  fashion  have  lately  become  more  serious, 
and  we  are  hoping  their  example  will  be  followed  by 
others.  The  grand  jury,  also,  begin  to  perform  their 
duty,  in  shutting  up  tippling  shops  and  bad  houses. 
We  are,  therefore,  encouraged  to  hope  that  God,  by 
thus  removing  some  of  our  external  spots  and  pollu- 
tions, is  preparing  the  way  for  an  inward,  real  refor- 
mation. There  seems,  also,  to  be  a  hearing  ear ;  our 
meetings  on  the  Sabbath  are  unusually  crowded,  and 
the  church  seems  to  be  unusually  humbled  under  a 
sense  of  their  deficiencies.  The  state  of  my  health 
still  continues  a  clog  upon  me  ;  but  it  is  a  great  mercy, 
and  I  cannot  find  it  in  my  heart  to  pray  for  its  re- 
moval." 

''June  5,  1809. 
"  My  dearest  Mother, 

"You  judged  right  with  respect  to  my  anxiety  to 
hear  from  home ;  for  after  the  lirst  of  your  letters,  giv- 
ing an  account  of  my  father's  illness,  arrived,  I  could 
scarcely  rest  till  the  arrival  of  the  other;  and  had  it 
not  been  for  an  approaching  ordination,  and  some  pro- 
mising appearances  among  my  people,  I  should,  ere 
this,  have  been  at  home.  I  must  confess  that  I  am 
surprised,  as  well  as  grieved,  that  father  should  per- 
sist in  preaching,  when  it  is  so  clearly  and  indispen- 
sably his  duty  to  desist ;  especially  after  the  admoni- 
tions he  has  given  me  on  that  subject.  He  would  see 
and  allow,  with  respect  to  any  other  person  in  the 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  191 

same  situation,  that  it  was  wrong  to  preach.  Perhaps 
my  language  may  appear  almost  disrespectful ;  but  on 
this  subject  I  am  too  nearly  interested  to  use  the  cold 
language  of  strict  propriety.  I  cannot  be  silent ;  and 
should  the  consequences  which  I  fear,  result  from  his 
preaching,  it  would  ever  be  with  me  a  subject  of  bitter 
regret  that  I  had  not  done  all  in  my  power  to  prevent 
it.  He  must  desist.  It  is  a  duty  which  he  owes  him- 
self, his  family,  his  people,  and  his  God,  to  desist ;  for 
preaching  now  will  be  his  death;  and  his  family  and 
people  will  repent  too  late,  if  they  do  not  prevail  upon 
him  not  to  preach  again  until  he  is  better.  Mark  my 
words — for  I  will  have  nothing  to  reproach  myselt 
with,  be  the  consequences  what  they  may.  If  I  were 
at  home,  he  should  walk  over  my  body  before  he  could 
get  into  the  pulpit.  Excuse  me,  my  dear  mother,  and 
plead  with  him  to  pardon  my  boldness ;  but  I  am  dis- 
tressed with  the  bare  apprehension  of  what  the  con- 
sequence may  be. 

"  June  7. 
"  My  health  continues  to  mend,  though  slowly.  I 
get  over  the  fatigue  of  preaching  much  sooner  than  I 
did,  and  my  food  and  sleep  nourish  and  refresh  me, 
which  has  not  been  the  case  till  lately.  The  religious 
attention  appears  rather  to  increase  than  diminish ;  but 
though  it  is  pleasant  to  see  inquirers,  yet  the  constant 
anxiety  which  they  occasion  lest  they  should  go  back 
is  exceedingly  painful,  and  wears  upon  nature.  I  know 
it  is  wrong  thus  to  take  Christ's  work  out  of  his  hands, 
and  to  perplex  myself  respecting  events  over  which  I 
have  no  control ;  but  as  yet  I  cannot  wholly  refrain, 
though  the  fault,  like  most  other  faults,  carries  its  own 
punishment  with  it.    I  am  at  present,  unless  greatly 


192  MEMOIR   OF 

deceived,  in  the  worst  part  of  the  Christian  race.  My 
people  love  me,  but  I  cannot  enjoy  their  kindness,  lest, 
instead  of  rendering  me  thankful,  it  should  only  feed 
pride.  I  can  take  no  pleasure  in  any  success  that  at- 
tends my  labors,  for  similar  reasons.  I  am  surrounded 
with  blessings  more  than  I  should  have  dared  to  hope 
for ;  but  this  accursed  sin  turns  them  all  to  poison  and 
bitterness.  Were  it  not  for  this,  how  happy  might  I 
be !  But,  blessed  be  God,  this  shows  me  more  and 
more  clearly  what  an  evil  and  bitter  thing  it  is  to  for- 
sake the  Lord  of  hosts." 

"  Portland,  August  1,  1809. 
"  My  dear  Sister, 

"  My  time  is  so  much  engrossed  by  parochial  affairs, 
that,  till  this  moment,  I  have  had  no  leisure  to  write, 
and  must  now  steal  time  from  other  things  which  re- 
quire my  attention.  You  can  have  no  conception,  un- 
less you  were  present,  how  my  time  is  taken  up. 
Every  moment  is  mortgaged  before  it  arrives,  and  not- 
withstanding all  my  exertions,  the  business  seems  to 
grow  upon  my  hands;  so  that  I  am  ready  to  sit  down 
in  despair  and  do  nothing.  If  every  day  was  as  long  as 
ten,  there  would  be  ample  employment  for  every  hour. 
I  find  scarcely  any  time  to  read  or  study,  and  am  con- 
strained to  go  into  the  pulpit  with  discourses  so  undi- 
gested that  my  pride  is  continually  mortified ;  and 
though  it  lies  groaning  and  bleeding  under  continual 
wounds,  it  will  not  be  persuaded  to  give  up  the  ghost. 
However,  so  long  as  God  is  pleased  to  carry  on  his 
work  with  such  discourses,  I  have  no  right  to  com- 
plain or  be  discouraged ;  since,  the  feebler  the  means^ 
the  more  he  is  glorified.    And  I  hope  that,  some  time 


EDWARD   PAY  SON.  193 

or  Other,  I  shall  learn  to  be  willing  to  be  counted  a 
fool,  that  all  the  glory  may  redound  to  his  wisdom. 
But  this  is  a  hard  lesson  to  learn.  To  be  willing  to  be 
nothing,  to  rejoice  to  be  nothing,  that  God  may  be  all 
in  all ;  to  glory  in  infirmities,  that  the  power  of  Christ 
may  rest  upon  us — this  is  the  temper  which  I  pine  and 
hunger  after;  but,  alas!  it  appears  at  a  distance  so 
great,  that  I  despair  of  ever  reaching  any  where  near 
it  in  this  world.  If  we  could  put  God  entirely  in  the 
place  of  self,  consider  his  will  as  our  will,  his  honor 
as  our  honor,  his  happiness  as  our  happiness,  his  inte- 
rest as  our  interest,  and  pursue  it  accordingly,  how 
happy  should  we  be  !  And  how  happy  shall  we  be  in 
that  world  where  this  ^vill  be  the  case,  and  where  the 
very  stump  of  that  Dagon,  self,  will  not  be  permitted 
to  remain  in  our  hearts,  as  the  rival  of  our  blessed  Re- 
deemer !  O,  to  be  holy  as  God  is  holy — this  is  to  be 
happy,  according  to  our  measure,  as  God  is  happy. 
Strive  then,  my  dear,  dear  sister,  strive,  wrestle,  pray, 
long  and  pant  after  holiness.  If  I  cannot  be  holy  my- 
self, yet  I  long  to  see  others  holy.  If  I  cannot  love  and 
praise  the  ever-blessed  Redeemer,  it  is  almost  heaven 
sufficient  to  see  him  loved  and  praised  by  others.  If 
we  could  render  to  him  according  to  his  benefits  ! — but 
we  cannot,  we  cannot ;  we  must  be  content  to  be,  as 
it  were,  crushed  to  all  eternity  under  an  insupportable 
weight  of  goodness  ;  for  even  the  disposition  to  praise 
him  for  favors  already  received,  is  a  new  favor,  which 
still  adds  to  the  mighty  debt;  and  the  faster  he  ena- 
bles us  to  render  back  what  we  receive,  so  much  the 
faster  do  our  obligations  increase.  And  yet,  instead  of 
praising  him,  we  are  constantly  sinning.  I  hope  it  is 
not  so  bad  with  others,  but,  with  respect  to  myself, 
M.  P.  17 


194  "memoir  or 

there  seems  to  be  constant  strife  between  him  and  me, 
whether  I  shall  exceed  in  provoking,  or  he  in  pardon- 
ing ;  whether  I  shall  succeed  in  destroying  myself  by 
my  own  madness  and  folly  against  his  will,  or  he  suc- 
ceed in  saving  me  in  spite  of  myself.  But  in  this  strife 
he  still  conquers,  and  will  conquer.  I  have  done  every 
thing  to  provoke  him  to  leave  me ;  but  he  will  not  be 
provoked.  He  will  still  return  to  humble  me,  and 
shame  me ;  and  I  am  ready  to  call  on  the  rocks  and 
mountains  to  fall  on  me,  and  hide  me  from  the  tender, 
expostulating,  heart-breaking,  soul-subduing  glances 
of  his  eye,  which  fill  me  with  such  shame  and  confu- 
sion, that  it  seems  as  if  I  could  more  easily  endure  the 
lightnings  of  his  indignation.  Were  all  his  people  like 
me,  and  were  justice  done  upon  them,  surely  they 
would  be  sentenced  to  some  hell  more  dreadful  than 
that  which  is  prepared  for  others. 

"  We  have  still  considerable  attention  to  religion. 
The  number  of  inquirers  is  upwards  of  forty,  and 
many  more  are  serious.  We  had  hoped  for  hundreds 
ere  this ;  but  God  keeps  us  waiting,  and  praying,  and 
stili  gives  a  spirit  of  prayer." 

"  Portland,  Sept.  22,  1809. 

*My  dearest  Mother, 

"  The  attention  to  religion  still  continues.  Last 
communion  we  admitted  eleven  to  the  church,  and 
next  Sabbath  we  shall  admit  twelve  more.  The  ap- 
petite for  hearing  seems  insatiable,  and  our  assem- 
blies are  more  crowded  than  ever.  Many  have  lafely 
joined  us.  However,  the  Gospel  proves  a  savor  of 
death  unto  death,  as  well  as  of  life  unto  life.     Many 


EDWABC   PAYSON.  195 

seem  to  be  awfully  hardened,  and  many  severe  re- 
flections are  cast  upon  religion  and  its  professors. 

"  After  telling  you  that  religion  thus  flourishes 
among  us,  I  am  ashamed  to  complain ;  for  what  rea- 
son of  complaint  can  a  minister  have,  while  he  sees 
the  cause  of  Christ  triumphant  ?  Nor  do  I  complain 
of  any  thing  except  myself.  Every  earthly  thing  is 
imbittered  to  me,  and  the  enjoyments  of  religion  are 
kept  far  above  my  reach.  I  am  overwhelmed  by  one 
wave  of  temptation  after  another.  My  bodily  powers 
are  kept  in  such  a  continual  state  of  exhaustion,  and 
m.y  nerves  are  so  weak,  that  mole-hills  appear  to  be 
mountains,  and  I  am  ready  to  stumble  at  a  straw;  and 
when  imaginary  evils  disappear,  I  find  real  perplexi- 
ties and  diflftculties,  which  v/eigh  me  down  in  the 
dust.  I  know,  indeed,  that  all  these  things  are  ne- 
cessary ;  and  when  I  am  left  in  my  own  possession,  I 
would  not  wish  to  have  my  burthen  lightened.  At 
times,  too,  I  am  'holpen  with  a  little  help  ;'  so  that, 
though  cast  down,  I  am  not  utterly  destroyed.  But 
how  desperate,  how  inconceivable  must  be  the  wick- 
edness of  that  heart  which  draws  down  such  sufi'er- 
ings  from  the  hand  of  the  compassionate  Savior,  and 
requires  such  painful  rem.edies  to  heal  it." 

«  Portland,  Nov.  1,  1809. 
'•My  dear  Sister, 

"It  is  no  small  disappointment  to  me,  and  I  flatter 
myself  that  it  will  be  some  disappointment  to  you. 
that  I  am  under  the  necessity  of  sending  this  inani- 
mate scroll  to  see  and  inquire  after  you,  instead  of 
coming  myself,  as  I  expected,  and  partly  promised. 
But  my  health  does  not  absolutely  require  a  journey 


196  MEMOIR   OF 

this  season ;  and  my  encragements  are  such,  that  I 
know  not  how  to  be  absent  a  single  day.  In  the  first 
place,  the  situation  of  the  congregation  requires  my 
presence.  The  people  still  have  a  hearing  ear,  but 
there  is  more  opposition,  more  attempts  to  mislead ' 
young  converts,  and  turn  aside  inquirers,  than  for- 
merly ;  and  therefore  I  wish  to  be  with  them.  Be- 
sides, the  neighboring  ministers  are  stirred  up  to  more 
diligence  and  attention.  They  have  lately  adopted 
the  custom  of  keeping  days  of  fasting  and  prayer,  and 
inviting  in  a  number  of  preachers ;  and  I  have  some 
engagements  of  this  kind  just  now,  which  I  am  un- 
willing to  leave.  We  have  already  had  three  days  of 
this  kind  in  three  of  the  neighboring  towns,  and  hope 
to  extend  it  through  the  Avhole  association.  We  are 
just  establishing  a  Bible  Society  also,  and  this  em- 
ploys considerable  time  at  present ;  so  that,  with  these 
and  other  things  which  require  attention,  I  am  too 
much  engaged  to  leave  home  ;  and  I  trust  you  will 
not  suspect  my  affection  diminishes,  because  I,  at  this 
time,  prefer  duty  to  pleasure. 

"  My  hopes  respecting increase.     He 

tells  his  people  some  solemn  truths;  and  a  la-v\7er 
from  ******j  who  was  formerly  acquainted  with  him, 
says  he  is  spoilt,  and  that,  though  he  used  to  be  a 
good  rational  preacher,  he  is  in  a  fair  way  to  become 
an  enthusiast.  What  a  glorious  instance  of  sovereign 
mercy  it  would  be,  should  God  bless  that  people  with 
a  faithful  minister ! 

"  The  cause  of  evangelical  religion  is  certainly 
gaining  ground  in  this  eastern  country.  Mr.  J.  of  B. 
on  whom  the  liberal  party  placed  great  reliance,  has 
lately  come  out  full  on  the  side  of  orthodoxy.    Presi- 


EDWARD    PAY30N.  197 

dent  A.  was  thought  to  be  wavering,  but  he  is  now 
quite  decided ;  and  if  Mr. does  not  disap- 
point our  hopes,  I  think  the  ****  ****  will  lose  all 
hopes  of  liberalizing  the  District  of  Maine.  Violent 
and  systematic  attempts,  however,  are  making  here  in 
opposition  to  truth.  Pamphlets  are  circulated  to  prove 
that  all  the  hard  texts  in  the  Bible  refer  to  primitive 
times ;  and  the  new  Socinian  translation  of  the  New 
Testament  threatens  to  produce  mischief;  but,  while 
the  enemy  comes  in  as  a  flood,  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord 
is  lifting  up  a  standard  against  him.  Within  two 
years  five  orthodox  ministers  have  been  settled,  or  are 
about  settling  in  this  association,  which  includes  the 
county  of  Cumberland,  and  many  others  preach  very 
different  doctrine  from  what  they  formerly  did." 

His  afflictive  melancholy  had  now  become  compa- 
ratively harmless  ;  for,  though  it  did  not  cease  to  dis- 
tress him,  its  tyrannical  power  was  broken,  and  it  much 
less  frequently  impeded  his  mental  efforts.  There  is 
one  allusion,  however,  to  this  mode  of  its  operation, 
which  is  peculiarly  characteristic  : — "  Was  employed 
in  vain  attempts  to  prepare  for  lecture.  Did  nothing 
all  day  but  learn  the  old  lesion  over  again,  that  with- 
out Christ  I  can  do  nothing.  Were  I  not  the  dullest 
of  all  scholars,  I  might  surely  spare  my  heavenly  Fa- 
ther the  trouble  of  teaching  me  this  lesson  again." 

In  his  frequent  seasons  of  illness,  and  his  multiplied 
public  engagements,  he  saw  cause  of  danger  that  his 
private  devotions  would  suTer  interruption  or  abate- 
ment. To  guard  against  such  an  evil  appears  to  have 
been  one  object  of  the  following  resolutions,  which 
^vere  adopted,  or  renewed,  near  the  close  of  this 
year : 

M.  P.  17* 


198  MEMOIR    OF 

"  1.  I  will,  on  no  pretence  whatever,  omit   read 
ing  the  Scriptures,  with  prayer,  morning  and  evening 

"  2.  When  practicable,  I  will  spend  one  day  ia 
every  week,  in  fasting  and  prayer. 

"  3.  I  will  allow  but  six  hours  for  sleep. 

"  4.  I  will  endeavor  to  redeem  the  time,  by  being 
diligent  and  fervent  in  business. 

"  5.  I  will  live  more  to  the  glory  of  God  than  I  have 
done. 

"  6.  I  will,  every  evening,  review  my  conduct 
through  the  day,  and  see  how  far  I  have  fulfilled  these 
resolutions." 

To  the  peculiar  trials  which  distinguished  this  year, 
the  merciful  Redeemer  provided  an  antidote  in  the 
spiritual  blessings  which  he  bestowed.  Under  the  la- 
bors of  his  servant,  sinners  were  converted,  and  the 
church  was  increased  by  an  addition  of  forty-four 
members. 


CHAPTER    XL 


Permanency  and  strength  of  maternal  infliLe^icc — Correspond- 
ence — Death-bed  anguish,  how  alleviated — Disgraceful  inci- 
dent— Price  of  popularity — Reasojis  of  former  trials  deve- 
loped— Letters,  d^c. 

The  reader  is  not  to  infer  that  the  subject  of  this  nar- 
rative ceased  to  "  give  himself  continually  unto  pray- 
er," because  the  daily-recorded  testimony  of  the  fact, 
to  which  appeal  has  so  often  been  made,  is  less  fre- 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  199 

quently  introduced.  This  was  an  employment  of 
which  he  seems  never  to  have  grown  weary,  and 
which  there  are  no  indications  that  he  ever  relaxed. 
He  "  dwelt  in  the  secret  place  of  the  Most  High,  and 
abode  under  the  shadow  of  the  Almighty."  His  accu- 
mulated burden  of  cares  and  sorrows  he  every  day 
brought  with  him  to  the  throne  of  grace,  and  retired 
thence  relieved  from  its  pressure,  or  strengthened  to 
sustain  it. 

"  Dec.  29.  Was  enabled  to  agonize  in  prayer  for 
myself  and  people,  and  to  make  intercession  with  un- 
utterable groanings.  My  heart  and  flesh  cried  out  for 
the  living  God.  Felt  very  strong  hope  that  God  was 
about  to  work  wonders  among  us." 

How  well  his  mother  understood  his  character — now 
sagacious  she  was  in  her  aims  at  his  heart,  always  suc- 
cessful in  touching  the  chord  that  would  be  sure  to  vi- 
brate— in  a  word,  how  assiduous  and  valuable  a  com- 
forter she  was — is  apparent  from  his  answers  to  her 
letters  : 

"  Portland,  Feb.  3,  1810. 
"  My  dear  Mother, 

"  I  do  '  bless  Heaven '  if  I  am  made  '  the  joy  of  my 
parents'  heart,'  and  esteem  it  one  of  the  greatest  mer- 
cies for  which  I  have  reason  to  be  thankful.  Just  be- 
fore I  received  the  letter  which  contained  this  consol- 
ing assurance,  T  was  wondering  what  such  a  poor, 
miserable,  worthless  wretch  was  ever  made  for,  and 

why  I  should  be  preserved  in  existence But, 

if  I  can  aflford  any  joy  to  my  parents,  or  to  any  one 
else,  I  think  I  am  willing  to  live,  let  my  trials  be  ever 
so  great ;  and  I  hless  God,  and  thank  you  for  sending 


200  MEMOIR   CF 

me  that  letter  just  at  the  right  time.  It  proved  a  very- 
seasonable  and  refreshing  cordial  to  a  fainting  spirit. 
But  methinks  I  hear  you  ask — '  Why  do  you  talk  of 
fainting,  when  you  have  so  much  reason  to  rejoice 
and  praise  God  for  his  goodness?'  I  faint  because  I 
find  no  heart,  in  the  midst  of  all  his  goodness,  to  praise 
him  for  it.  I  faint  because,  while  I  feed  others,  I  am 
left  to  pine  in  hunger,  and  am  parched  with  thirst.  In 
proportion  as  my  labors  are  blessed  to  others,  my  sor- 
rows and  sins  increase  ;  and,  though  I  am  assisted  in 
keeping  the  vineyard  of  others,  my  own  runs  to  waste. 
I  cannot  think  that  any  one  but  a  minister  knows  any 
thing  of  a  minister's  trials ;  and  I  believe  Paul  had  a 
peculiar  reference  to  them  when  he  said — '  If  in  this 
life  only  we  have  hope,  v/e  are  of  all  men  most  mise- 
rable.' 

♦  *  *  * 

"  The  attention  to  religion  continues  among  us,  and 
has  much  increased  within  a  few  weeks.  It  seems  to 
be  spreading  more  among  the  men.  There  are  some 
favorable  appearances  in  the  neighboring  towns.  Last 
week,  and  the  week  before,  and  this  week,  I  have  at- 
tended fasts,  in  different  places,  which  have  been  ob- 
served with  prayer  for  a  revival  of  religion,  and  am 
engaged  to  attend  another  next  week. 

'•I  preached  yesterday  on  our  Savior's  words  to  his 
disciples — •  All  pov/er  is  given  to  me  in  heaven  and 
in  earth.'  What  an  animating  assurance  to  his  peo- 
ple, Vv'hen  they  have  a  strong  faith  to  take  hold  of  it !" 

^^  Feb.  8.  Was  favored  with  great  fervor  and  free- 
dom at  the  throne  of  grace  this  morning.  Longed  only 
to  be  employed  as  an  instrument  of  glorifying  Christ, 
and  Avas  willing  to  drink  of  his  cup,  and  to  be  bap- 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  201 

tized  with  his  baptism,  if  I  might  have  a  double  por- 
tion of  his  Spirit.  In  the  afternoon  and  evening  at- 
tended conferences,  and  was  grievously  disappointed 
to  find  no  new  inquirers." 

"April  17,  1810. 
"  My  dearest  Mother, 

"  I  have  just  received  your  affectionate  letter,  and 
thank  you  most  sincerely  for  the  maternal  love  which 
breathes  in  every  line.  God  grant  that  I  may  be  made 
worthy  of  all  the  proofs  of  parental  affection  with 
which  I  am  mercifully  favored.  If  I  derive  any  plea- 
sure from  the  success  with  which  our  gracious  Mas- 
ter is  pleased  to  crown  my  laboi-s  in  the  ministry,  it,, 
in  a  great  measure,  arises  from  the  happiness  which  I 
know  this  success  gives  my  friends  at  home.  Next  to 
glorifying  God,  by  doing  good  to  mankind,  it  is  my 
chief  desire  to  be  made  the  means  of  promoting  your 
happiness. 

*  *  *  + 

"  My  situation  is  now  as  agreeable  as  I  ever  expect 
it  will  be  on  earth ;  and  I  shall  not  be  in  a  hurry  to 
change  it.  I  now  hear  none  but  religious  conversa- 
tion ;  every  day  seems  like  a  Sabbath,  and  we  have  a 
little  image  of  heaven  upon  earth.  You  will,  I  know, 
join  with  me  in  blessing  our  bounteous  Benefactor  for 
this  fresh  instance  of  his  goodness. 

''  I  rejoice,  most  sincerely  rejoice  with  you,  and  es- 
pecially with  my  dear  father,  in  the  hopeful  appear- 
ances which  attend  his  labors.  He  has  long  been  go- 
ing forth  weeping,  bearing  precious  seed.  I  hope  he 
will  now  be  enabled  to  come  again  rejoicing,  bringing 
with  him  the  sheaves  of  an  abundant  harvest.    I  still 


202  MEMOIR   OP 

feel  exceedingly  anxious  respecting  his  health,  but 
must  leave  it  with  God. 

"My  own  health  continues  very  much  the  some — 
rather  better  of  late,  if  any  different.  I  do  not  expect 
it  v-ill  be  restored  till  the  attention  to  religion  ceases ; 
for  it  does  not  answer  for  me  to  have  too  many  bless- 
ings at  once. 

"We  are  still  favored  with  the  presence  of  the 
Spirit  of  grace,  though  in  a  less  degree  than  formerly. 
Appearances,  hoAvever,  begin  again  to  look  more  en- 
couraging. The  young  converts  who  have  made  a 
profession,  Avith  a  very  few  exceptions,  bid  fair  to  do 
honor  to  the  cause.  Some  of  them,  especially,  advance 
very  rapidly ;  and  the  mouths  of  opposers,  who  seek 
occasion  to  blaspheme,  are  stopped.  The  congrega- 
tion, and  especially  the  cburch,  continue  affectionate 
as  ever.  In  short,  I  am  a  w^onder  to  myself,  and  can 
scarcely  believe  what  I  daily  see  of  the  goodness  of 
God.  You  will  naturally  conclude,  however,  that  in- 
ward trials  will  not  be  wanting  where  outward  com- 
forts are  so  multiplied.  I  thought,  long  since,  that  I  had 
endured  every  thing  horrible  and  dreadful  that  was 
ever  felt,  heard  of,  or  conceived  ;  but  I  find  that  the 
depths  of  Satan,  and  of  a  heart  desperately  wicked,  are 
not  so  easily  fathomed.  These  unfathom^ible  depths, 
however,  only  serve  to  show  me  more  clearly  the  in- 
finite heights  and  depths  of  Christ's  love;  and  I  know 
that  he  who  delivered  me  out  of  the  paw  of  the  lion 
and  the  bear,  will  deliver  me  from  every  foe,  Jiowever 
gigantic.  It  is  but  a  moment,  my  mother,  and  we 
shall  be  singing  the  song  of  redeeming  love  together 
before  the  throne'.  Yes;  our  salvation  is  nearer  than 
when  we  believed.    Every  moment  it  comes  hasten- 


EDWARD  PAYSON.  203 

ing  on,  and  to-morrow  it  will  be  here.  Yes ;  to-mor- 
row we  shall 'be  as  the  angels  of  God.  O  for  patience 
to  wait  for  the  glory  which  will  be  revealed,  and  to 
endure  the  previous  light  afflictions,  which  continue 
but  for  a  moment  I" 

The  affectionate  minister  has  joys  peculiar  to  him- 
self, or  rather,  to  his  office;  and  the  same  may  be  said 
of  his  trials.  He  is  the  father  of  his  flock  so  far  as 
the  relation  supposes  a  community  of  feeling  in  their 
happiness  and  misery.  Inconsiderate  transgressors 
know  little  of  the  anguish  which  they  bring  upon  the 
pastor  who  warns  and  entreats  them  to  seek  '"  the  good 
and  right  way ;"  and  they  undervalue  his  counsels 
and  his  prayers,  till  roused  by  some  affecting  provi- 
dence, or  brought  down  to  the  very  gate  of  death,  and 
then  there  is  nothing  on  earth  which  they  so  much 
covet.  The  case  mentioned  below  is  perhaps  a  marked 
one ;  and  yet  what  faithful  minister  could  not  name 
instances  which  form  no  distant  parallels  to  this. 

"  May  12.  Was  permitted  to  draw  near  to  God 
with  joy  and  confidence.  O  how  astonishing  is  his 
goodness!  A  little  while  since  I  thought  it  impossi- 
ble I  should  ever  be  delivered  from  the  grasp  of  sin. 
But  he  has  brought  me  up  from  the  horrible  pit  and 
miry  clay,  and  set  my  feet  upon  a  rock,  and  put  a  new 
song  into  my  mouth,  even  praise  unto  his  name.  Had 
scarcely  fallen  asleep  when  I  was  called  up  to  visit  a 
dying  woman.  Found  her  in  all  the  agonies  of  de- 
spair ;  and  her  dreadful  shrieks  pierced  my  very  soul, 
and  almost  curdled  my  blood  with  horror.  Prayed,  in 
an  agony  of  spirit,  that  God  Avould  snatch  her  as  a 
brand  from  the  burning.    After  prayer  she  was  more 


204  MEMOIR  OP 

quiet,  and  sunk  into  an  imperfect  sleep.  Came  away 
broken  down  with  a  load  of  anguish. 

"  May  13.  Sabbath.  Rose  languid,  and  exhausted 
in  body  and  mind.  The  shrieks  of  the  dying  woman 
rang  in  my  ears  incessantly.  Between  meetings  was 
called  to  visit  her  again.  Found  her  composed  and 
happy,  rejoicing  in  the  Lord,  and  apparently  resigned 
to  live  or  die.  On  examination  found  reason  to  believe 
that  she  was  really  reconciled  to  God,  and  yet  could 
hardly  believe  it.  Could  scarcely  look  upon  it  as  an 
answer  to  prayer,  and  still  knevv'  not  how  to  avoid 
considering  it  as  such. 

"  May  17.  Was  much  enlivened  to-day  by  hearing 
that  a  remarkable  spirit  of  prayer  Avas  poured  out  last 
evening  at  meeting.  Could  not  but  hope  that  the 
Lord  was  about  to  take  the  work  into  his  own  hands. 
In  the  evening  attended  the  conference  for  inquirers. 
Was  still  more  encouraged  by  hearing  that  the  Spirit 
was  again  remarkably  present  at  a  prayer-meeting  of 
the  church  this  evening.  Felt  almost  confident  that 
the  Lord  was  about  to  make  bare  his  arm  in  a  wonder- 
ful manner.  Was  so  much  animated  and  enlivened  by 
this  hope,  that  I  could  scarcely  recover  sufficient  tran- 
quillity of  mind  to  pray  that  my  hopes  might  not  be 
disappointed. 

"  May  24.  Was  excessively  feeble  all  day.  In  the 
afternoon  and  evening  attended  the  conference  for  in- 
quirers, but  found  only  one.  Was  at  first  discouraged, 
but  afterwards  reflected  that  it  is  God's  method  to  bring 
us  low  before  he  raises  us." 


ED-\VARD    FAYSON.  205 

"  Friday  eve,  June  15. 
"  My  dearest  Mother, 

"  I  arriyed  here  this  afternoon  after  an  agreeable 
ride,  and  found  a  house  of  mourning  waiting  for  me. 
The  young  lady  I  mentioned  died  last  Wednesday 
morning.  The  grief  of  the  family,  and  my  own  feel- 
ings, you  can  better  conceive  than  I  describe.  The 
pious  members,  however,  are  wonderfully  supported, 
so  that  they  are  an  astonishment  to  themselves.  The 
funeral  is  to  be  to-morrow,  having  been  delayed  one 
day  for  my  return. 

"  Pray  for  me. — My  friends  at  home  are  much  en- 
deared to  me  by  their  kindness  during  my  late  visit. 
1  always  feel  vexed  at  myself,  after  coming  away,  that 
I  did  not  say  more  on  that  subject,  and  seem  more  sen- 
sible ^f  their  goodness  while  I  was  with  them.  But, 
somenow  or  other,  it  is  contrary  to  my  nature  to  tell 
people  how  much  I  love  and  thank  them." 

«  July  19,  1810. 

"  Grief  has  a  wonderful  efficacy,  as  you  ob- 
serve, in  softening  the  heart ;  and  suffering  binds  us 
to  fellow- sufferers  ;  so  that  I  cannot  tell  what  may  be 
the  event. 

"  I  have  much  new  cause  for  gratitude  since  I  left 
home.  The  minister  at ,  a  smooth,  liberal  preach- 
er, has  been  long  intemperate,  and  lately  fell  from  his 
horse  into  a  slough,  on  his  way  to  meeting.  He  was, 
on  this,  dismissed ;  and,  as  he  was  not  the  first  bad 
minister  this  people  had  been  cursed  with,  they  have 
contracted  a  strong  prejudice  against  the  clergy. 
They,  however,  wrote  to  me  to  come  and  preach  for 
them  one  Sabbath,  if  I  could ;  and  I  accordingly  went. 

M.  p.  18 


206  MEMoia  or 

was  treated  with  great  kindness,  ha'.l  a  very  crowd- 
ed, attentive,  and  solemn  assembly ;  and  from  letters 
since  received  in  town,  it  appears  tl.at  not  a  few  werq 
deeply  affected  and  convinced  of  sin.  They  are  exceed- 
ingly desirous  that  I  should  come  aga;- ;  and  unless 
they  succeed  in  getting  a  candidate  ssoon,  I  shall  go. 
They  are  determined  to  have  none  come  who  are  not 
orthodox.  If  I  had  health  and  strength,  I  might  apparent- 
ly do  much  good  by  thus  preaching  in  different  places." 

The  youthful  reader,  especially  if  he  be  a  candidate 
for  the  ministry,  will  do  well  to  pause  over  the  follow- 
ing instructive  paragraph : 

"  As  you  suspect,  popularity  costs  me  dear ;  and,  did 
It  not  afford  me  the  means  of  being  more  extensively 
useful,  I  should  heartily  pray  to  be  delivered  from  it, 
as  the  greatest  of  all  curses.  Since  the  noyelty  has 
worn  off,  it  affords  me  no  pleasure ;  and  yet  I  am  con- 
tinually wishing  for  more,  though  it  feeds  nothing  but 
pride.  If  we  had  no  pride,  I  believe  applause  would 
give  us  no  pleasure.  But  no  one  can  conceive  how 
dearly  it  is  purchased ;  what  unspeakably  dreadful 
temptations,  buffetings,  and  workings  of  depravity  are 
necessary  to  counteract  the  pernicious  effects  of  this 
poison.  It  is,  indeed,  the  first  and  last  prayer  which  I 
wish  my  friends  to  offer  up  for  me,  that  I  may  be  kept 
humble;  and  if  your  too  great  and  undeserved  affec- 
tion for  me  will  exert  itself  in  this  way — that  is,  in 
praying  for  me — it  may  preserve  yciur  gourd  from  the 
Dlast  and  the  worm. 

"  Mr.  R.  remains  very  much  the  same.  His  physi- 
cians give  but  faint  hopes  of  his  recovery.  Why  am 
not  I  cut  down,  and  he  spared  ?  O,  I  am  tired  of  re- 
ceiving innumerable  mercies  without   gratitude,  and 


EDWARD   PAYSON.  207 

of  committing  innumerable  sins  without  suitable  sor- 
row  That  word  rest  grows  exceedingly  sweet 

to  me.  O,  '  when  shall  I  fly  away,  and  be  at  rest  V 

"  The  work  still  goes  on.  Dr. 's  church  have, 

in  some  measure,  caught  the  flame,  and  compelled 
their  ministers,  reluctantly,  I  believe,  to  set  up  confer- 
ences. They  have  said  so  much  against  evening  meet- 
ings^ that  it  is  hard  now  to  set  them  up.  But  they  are 
obliged  to  do  it ;  and,  to  use  the  language  of  the  world, 
the  town  is  in  danger  of  growing  madder  than  ever." 

Henceforward  the  reader  will  revert  to  the  dark 
shades  in  the  history  of  this  beloved  man  with  more 
complacency,  and  cease  to  look  even  upon  his  seasons 
of  heart-rending  spiritual  anguish  as  worse  than  blank 
portions  of  existence.  He  suffered  not  for  himself 
alone  ;  the  church  of  the  Redeemer  was  indirectly,  yet 
largely  benefited  by  what  he  endured,  and  many  of  her 
members  were,  probably,  prevented  from  making  ship- 
wreck of  faith,  and  sinking  into  irrecoverable  despon- 
dency, in  consequence  of  having  for  a  guide  and  coun- 
sellor one  who  had  narrowly  escaped  a  similar  catas- 
trophe. The  amount  of  suffering  which  his  own  men- 
tal agony  was  thus  the  occasion  of  preventing,  will  not 
be  known  till  the  great  day.  But,  long  before  he  ex- 
changed his  armor  for  the  victor's  crown,  he  could  ap- 
propriate the  language  of  Paul — /  now  rejoice  in  my 
sufferings  for  you,  and  Jill  up  that  which  is  behind 
of  the  afflictions  of  Christ  in  my  flesh,  for  his  body^s 


"  Portland,  Aug.  8,  1810. 
"  My  dearest  Sister, 
"  I  have  nothing  interesting  to  write,  and  jaay  spirits 


208  MEMOlll    OP 

are  so  completely  jaded  and  exhausted,  that  they  will 
not  bear  the  fatigue  of  invention.  I  cannot  spiritualize, 
nor  moralize,  but  must  confine  myself  to  dull  narra- 
tion ;  and,  what  is  still  worse,  have  nothing  to  narrate. 
I  have,  indeed,  one  piece  of  good  news,  though  you 
have,  probably,  heard  of  it  ere  this.  Mr.  R.  is  better, 
and  there  are  great  hopes  of  his  recovery.  His  com- 
plaints, I  believe,  are  precisely  similar  to  mine. 

"  We  go  on  here  pretty  much  as  usual.  Satan  is  ex- 
tremely busy  with  Christians,  and  a  large  proportion 
of  our  church  have  been,  and  still  are,  exercised  with 
the  most  dreadful  and  distressing  temptations.  I  now 
understand  the  reason  of  my  dreadful  trials  at  Marl- 
borough. Had  it  not  been  for  them  I  should  have  been 
still  more  unfit  for  my  present  situation  than  I  am  at. 
present.  Often  should  I  be  utterly  at  a  loss  what  to 
say  or  think,  had  not  a  wise  and  gracious  Master 
foreseen  what  I  should  need,  and  taken  measures 
accordingly. 

"  He  has  been  pleased,  of  late,  to  bless  my  endea- 
vors to  comfort  his  tempted  and  distressed  people  with 
wonderful  success.  I  often  stand  astonished  at  it  my- 
self, and  seem  to  look  upon  it  as  a  greater  honor  and  fa- 
vor than  even  to  be  owned  in  the  conversion  of  sinners. 
If  I  can  be  permitted  to  do  this,  I  seem  willing  to  stay 
and  suffer  every  thing  which  he  sees  fit  to  lay  upon  me. 
But  I  tremble  at  Avhat  may  be  the  consequence.  Those 
who  find  my  endeavors  blessed  to  comfort  them,  oi 
course,  grow  more  and  more  affectionate ;  and  I  fear 
lest  they  prove  guilty  of  creature-idolatry,  and  thus  pro- 
voke God  to  wither  their  gourd.  I  have  warned  them  of 
the  danger  of  this  in  private,  and  have,  at  last,  openly 
preached  against  it ;  but  God  does  not  seem  to  bless  it  to 


EDWARD   PAYSON.  209 

their  conviction,  and  I  fear  we  shall  both  smart  for  it. 
He  is  a  jealous  God,  and  if  his  people  put  a  servant  in 
his  place,  wo  be  to  the  poor  creature  who  is  thus  set 
up  against  him.  Pray  for  me,  therefore,  and  pray  for 
my  people.  When  I  ask  them  to  pray  for  me,  they 
only  smile,  and  reply,  that  I  need  not  their  prayers. 
In  short,  we  are  all  young  here,  and  have  little  expe- 
rience ;  and  if  God  does  not  prevent,  we  shall  rush 
into  all  manner  of  extravagance. 

"  Since  I  wrote  last  I  have  been  to  preach  at  a 
place  near  this,  where  they  have  been  stupid  almost 
to  a  proverb.  But  I  hear  now  that  prayer-meetings  are 
established ;  the  minister  is  roused  ;  and  many  are  ear- 
nestly inquiring  what  they  shall  do. 

"  Another  minister,  who  lives  about miles  from 

this,  has  lately  rode  into  town,  week  after  week,  to 
attend  our  lectures.  He  told  his  people,  that,  though 
he  had  to  hire  a  horse,  yet  he  was  always  amply  re- 
paid. He  has  been  very  lax,  but  a  great  alteration 
has  taken  place  in  his  preaching  and  conduct,  and 
there  is  considerable  attention  excited  among  his 
people. 

"  After  all  this,  you  will  not  wonder  to  hear  that  I 
am  borne  down  with  heavy  burdens ;  pressed  out  of 
strength  above  measure,  so  as,  at  times,  to  despair 
even  of  life.  All  this  is  necessary,  absolutely  neces- 
sary, and  T  desire  to  consider  it  as  a  mercy ;  but  it  is 
hard,  very  hard  to  bear.  If  any  one  asks  to  be  made 
a  successful  minister,  he  knows  not  what  he  asks ; 
and  it  becomes  him  to  consider  whether  he  can  drink 
deeply  of  Christ's  bitter  cup,  and  be  baptized  with  his 
baptism.  If  we  could  learn,  indeed,  to  give  all  the 
glory  to  God,  and  keep  only  the  sin  and  imperfections 
M.  p.  IS* 


210  MEMOIR    OF 

to  ourselves,  we  might  be  spared  these  trials.  And 
one  would  think  this  easy  enough.  One  would  think, 
that  Jonah  could  hardly  be  proud  of  his  success  among 
the  Ninevites ;  and  we  have,  if  possible,  less  reason  to 
be  proud  than  he.  But  pride  will  live  and  thrive 
without  reason,  and  in  despite  of  every  reason  to  the 
contrary." 

''Portland,  Sept.  20,  1810. 
"  My  dear  Sister, 

"  I  thank  you  most  sincerely  for  your  letter,  which 
I  have  just  received ;  but  I  do  not  thank  you  at  all  for 
the  reason  which  you  assign  for  not  writing  more  fre- 
quently. It  seems,  forsooth,  that  I  am  so  wonderfully 
wise  and  good  that  you  dare  not  Avrite  me.  My  dear 
sister,  this  is  little  better  than  downright  mockery — 
not  that  I  suspect  you  of  a  design  to  mock  me,  but 
your  commendations,  however  sincere,  are  cutting, 
and  I  beg  of  you  to  wound  me  no  more  with  them. 
Go  and  congratulate  a  wretch  on  the  rack  upon  the 
happiness  which  he  enjoys  ;  tell  a  beggar  of  his  riches, 
an  illiterate  peasant  of  his  learning,  or  a  deformed 
cripple  of  his  strength  and  beauty ;  but  mock  not  a 
vile,  stupid  sinner,  ready  to  sink  under  an  almost  in- 
supportable weight  of  guilt  and  iniquity,  with  com- 
mendations of  his  goodness,  or  a  blind,  ignorant  crea- 
ture with  compliments  upon  his  wisdom  and  know- 
ledge. You  are  ready,  perhaps,  to  look  upon  my  situ- 
ation as  enviable ;  but  if  you  knew  what  I  suffer  in  a 
single  day,  you  would  fall  down  on  your  knees  and 
bless  God  that  you  are  not  a  minister.  Not  that  I  con- 
sider it  as  a  small  favor  to  be  placed  in  this  sacred  of- 
fice, and  honored  with  some  degree  of  acceptance  and 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  211 

success.  I  know  it  is  a  post  which  an  angel  might 
envy,  and  I  can  never,  to  all  eternity,  praise  God  suf- 
ficiently for  putting  me  into  it,  and  supporting  me  un- 
der the  pressure  of  its  duties.  I  would  not  part  with  the 
privilege  of  preaching  Christ  crucified  to  perishing  sin- 
ners, and  of  administering  to  the  consolation  of  God's 
afflicted  people,  to  be  made  monarch  of  the  wotW.  But 
O  the  agonies,  the  unutterable,  the  inconceivable  ago- 
nies which  must  be  endured  by  those  who  attempt,  with 
such  a  heart  as  mine,  to  perform  this  work !  I  shud- 
der with  horror  to  think  of  the  scenes  through  which  I 
have  been  obliged  to  pass,  and  shrink  back  from  those 
through  which  I  must  yet  pass  before  I  reach  the 
rest  prepared  for  the  people  of  God.  It  is,  however, 
some  comfort,  that  the  time  when  I  shall  quit  this 
scene  of  trial^  cannot  be  far  distant.  Nature  cannot 
long  hold  out  under  what  I  endure  ;  and  I  trust  that, 
ere  many  years,  I  shall  be  safe  in  the  grave,  where  the 
wicked  cease  from  troubling,  and  the  weary  are  at  rest. 
If,  meanwhile,  I  may  be  preserved  from  insanity,  and 
from  wounding  the  cause  of  Christ  by  falling  into 
open  wickedness,  it  is  perhaps  more  than  I  have  any 
reason  to  expect.  It  is  a  dreadtul  thought,  that  no 
Christian  on  earth,  however  holy,  humble,  and  watch- 
ful he  may  at  present  be,  has  any  security  against  fall- 
ing into  open  sin  before  he  dies.  As  to  resolving  that 
he  will  not  thus  fall,  it  avails  nothing.  As  well  might  a 
stone  resolve  not  to  fall  when  the  power  which  upheld 
it  is  removed.  You  will  perhaps  say.  We  may  hope 
that  God  will  uphold  us  for  the  sake  of  his  cause.  So 
David  might  have  hoped.  It  seemed  very  important 
that  he  should  be  preserved — and  yet  how  he  fell! 
And  what  reason,  then,  have  I  to  hope  that  I  shall  not 


212  MEMOIR   OF 

lail  ?  And  if  I  should,  it  would  injure  the  cause  of 
religion  infinitely  more  than  all  my  labors  will  ever 
advance  it." 

The  following  letter  is  without  date,  but  cannot  be 
materially  out  of  its  place: 

"  My  health  remains  much  the  same.  I  have  en- 
joyed more  in  religion  since  my  last  journey  to  Rindge 
than  during  my  Avhole  ministry  before.  My  distress- 
ing exercises  have  vanished — I  sometimes  hope,  never 
to  return  ;  and  my  thoughts  are  so  unusually  drawn 
upwaid,  that  I  cannot  avoid  concluding  that  my  stay 
on  earth  is'to  be  but  short.  My  church  are,  many  of 
them,  of  the  same  opinion.  They  tell  me  they  are  cer- 
tain that  I  shall  not  continue  with  them  long.  Some- 
times I  am  tempted  to  wish  that  my  expectations  may 
soon  be  realized.  At  others,  I  wish  to  stay  a  little 
longer,  and  tell  sinners  what  a  precious  Savior  Jesus 
is.  But  the  Lord's  will  be  done.  Welcome  life,  wel- 
come death,  welcome  any  thing  from  his  hand.  The 
world — O  what  a  bubble — what  a  trifle  it  is  !  Friends 
are  nothing,  fame  is  nothing,  health  is  nothing,  life  is 
nothing ;  Jesus,  Jesus  is  all  !  O  what  will  it  be  to 
spend  an  eternity  in  seeing  and  praising  Jesus  !  to  see 
him  as  he  is,  to  be  satisfied  with  his  likeness !  O,  I 
long,  I  pant,  I  faint  with  desire  to  be  singing.  Worthy 
is  the  Lamb — to  be  extolling  the  riches  of  sovereign 
grace — to  be  casting  the  crown  at  the  feet  of  Christ ! 
And  why  may  we  not  do  all  thi^  on  earth  ?  My  dear- 
est sister,  we  may  do  it,  if  it  is  not  our  own  fault. 
Pause  a  moment,  and  try  to  conceive  how  they  feel, 
and  what  they  are  this  moment  doing  m  heaven. 
Pause  and  reflect  till  you  hear  their  songs,  and  feel 


EDWARD    FAYSON.  213 

your  heart  gloAV  with  their  love.  Then  shout  aloud, 
'  Worthy  is  the  Lamb ;  for  thou  wast  slain,  and  hast' 
redeemed  nie  by  thy  blood.  Worthy  is  the  Lamb,  who 
was  slam,  to  receive  glory,  and  blessing,  and  honor, 
and  power !'     But  I  must  desist. 

"  Remember  me  most  affectionately  to  our  dear  pa- 
rents ;  and  I  hope  that  they  and  you  are  willing  that 
I  should  go  to  heaven  first." 

''Portland,  Dec.  10,  1810. 
"  My  dearest  Mother, 

"  Since  my  return  it  has  pleased  my  adorable  Sa- 
vior, in  his  sovereign  mercy,  to  give  me  clearer  and 
more  transporting  views  of  himself  than  I  have  ever 
before  enjoyed;  and  I  have  no  leisure  or  thoughts  to 
bestow  on  any  thing  else.  He  has  brought  me  up  out 
of  the  horrible  pit,  where  I  have  so  long  been  sinking, 
and  put  a  new  song  in  my  mouth  ;  and  O  that  all  crea- 
tion would  join  with  me  in  singing  his  praises  !  I  have 
sometimes  heard  of  spells  and  charms  to  excite  love, 
and  have  wished  for  them,  when  a  boy,  that  I  might 
cause  others  to  love  me.  But  how  much  more  do  I 
now  wish  for  some  charm  which  should  lead  men  to 
love  the  Savior  !  What  would  I  not  give  for  the  power 
to  make  sinners  love  him — for  the  faculty  of  describ- 
ing his  beauties  and  glories  in  such  a  manner  as  to 
excite  warmer  affections  towards  him  in  the  hearts  of 
Christians !  Could  I  paint  a  true  likeness  of  him, 
methinks  I  should  rejoice  to  hold  it  up  to  the  view 
and  admiration  of  all  creation,  and  be  hid  behind  it 
for  ever.  It  would  be  heaven  enough  to  hear  him 
praised  and  adored,  though  no  one  should  know  or 
care  about  insignificant  me.    But  I  cannot  paint  him; 


214  MEMoin  or 

I  cannot  describe  him ;  I  cannot  make  others  love  him^j 
nay,  I  cannot  love  him  a  thousandth  part  so  much  as 
I  ought  myself.  I  faint,  I  sink  under  the  weight  of 
infinite,  insupportable  obligations.  O  for  an  angel's 
tongue  ! — O  for  the  tongues  often  thousand  angels  to 
sound  his  praises !  I  would  fain  do  something  for 
him,  but  I  can  do  nothing.  I  cannot  even  attempt  to 
do  any  thing  without  his  grace;  and  the  more  I  am 
enabled  to  do  in  his  service,  so  much  the  more  is  the 
load  of  obligation  increased.  O  that  God,  who  alone 
is  able,  would  glorify  his  Son !  This,  at  present,  is 
all  my  salvation,  and  all  my  desire,  that  Christ  may  be 
glorified.  For  this  reason  I  long  and  pray  for  a  revival. 
I  long  that  the  blessed  Jesus  should  receive  some 
more  suitable  returns  for  his  wondrous  love  to  our  ruin- 
ed race.  We  are  hoping  that  this  will  be  the  case  here. 
I  hope  the  church  begin  to  awake  and  pray  more  ear- 
nestly than  ever,  and  that  we  shall  yet  see  hundreds 
here  praising  the  ever-blessed  Redeemer.  It  seems 
of  no  consequence  what  becomes  of  me.  It  seems  of 
no  consequence  what  becomes  of  sinners,  compara- 
tively speaking.  But  O,  it  is  of  infinite  consequence 
that  Christ  should  be  glorified.  My  dearest  mother, 
do  strive  to  love  him  more  than  ever.  Do  strive  to 
make  others  love  him.  O,  if  it  was  not  for  a  hope  of 
doing  something  for  his  glory,  how  could  we  be  con- 
tent to  live  a  single  hour  absent  from  his  presence 
above ! 

"I  shall  not  wonder  if  you  thmk  me  mad.  I  have 
been  mad,  and  am  just  beginning  to  see  my  madness. 
O  how  little  zeal,  how  little  love  have  I  manifested  ! 
How  madly  have  Lmisimproved  my  time  and  talents ! 
how  wretchedly  neglected  the  all-important  work  to 


EDWABD   PAVSON.  215 

which  I  am  called  !  how  ungratefully  requited  the 
best  of  Saviors  !  How  often  have  I  called  his  love 
and  faithfulness  in  question,  at  the  very  time  he  was 
taking  the  best  possible  measures  to  promote  my  hap- 
piness !  Now  he  returns  to  humble  me,  and  shame  me 
for  my  folly  and  ingratitude.  O,  I  know  not  how  to 
bear  this  astonishing,  overwhelming  goodness  !  Me- 
thinks  I  could  bear  his  anger— but  his  love  cuts  me 
to  the  heart.  O  that  I  may  be  dumb,  and  not  open 
my  mouth  any  more,  since  he  is  pacified  towards  me 
for  all  that  I  have  done  !  O  that,  for  the  remainder  of 
life,  I  could  hear  of  nothing,  think  of  nothing,  speak 
of  nothing  but.  the  wonders  of  his  person,  his  charac- 
ter, and  redeeming  love  !  But,  unless  he  prevents  it, 
I  shall  wander  again,  and  act  over,  not  only  once,  but 
often,  all  my  past  sins.  It  seems  now  infinitely  bet- 
ter to  die,  than  to  be  guilty  of  this ;  but  he  knows,  and 
will  do  what  is  best." 

"  Dec.  16.  Sabbath.  This  day  completes  three 
years  since  my  ordination.  What  a  miserable,  un- 
profitable servant  have  I  been !  In  the  afternoon 
preached  with  much  diflSculty,  from  Ezekiel,  33  :  7-9. 
Was  much  aff'ected,  and  my  hearers  appeared  scarcely 
less  so.  Came  home  excessively  fatigued,  but  re- 
joicing in  God." 

This  year  forty-two  souls  were  gathered  into  the 
church. 


816  MEMOIR   OP 


CHAPTER  XII. 


Holy  aspirations — Gratitude  to  the  Savior — Multiplied  Idbori 
— Novel  family  scene — Danger  averted — "  Curimis  frame^' 
— Flattery  deprecated — His  marriage — Bccovies  sole  pastor 
of  the  church — Retrospect  of  Vie  year 

"  Dec.  17.  IS  10.  I  now  commence  the  fourth  year 
of  my  ministry.  Whether  I  shall  live  to  finish  it  God 
only  knows.  O  that  it  may  be  spent  to  better  purpose 
than  those  which  are  passed  ! 

"  Dec.  29.  Felt  the  blessed  effects  of  casting  all  my 
cares  upon  Him  who  careth  for  me.  In  family  pray- 
er was  most  unusually  drawn  out  towards  God,  and 
felt  as  much  like  an  inhabitant  of  heaven  as  I  ever 
expect  to  feel  here.  All  earthly  objects  were  swal- 
lowed up  ;  self  appeared  to  be  nothing,  and  God  to  be 
all  in  all.  Felt  as  if  my  time  on  earth  would  be  short. 
I  was  in  a  strait  betwixt  two,  having  a  desire  to  de- 
part and  be  with  Christ,  and  yet  wishing  to  slay,  that 
I  might  tell  others  what  a  precious  Savior  he  is.  But 
the  Lord's  will  be  done.  Welcome  any  thing  which 
he  pleases  to  send. 

"  Dec.  31.  Spent  the  day  in  visiting.  In  the  even- 
ing met  a  number  of  Christian  friends,  and  had  a 
sweet  season  in  conversing  upon  heaven.  Our  hearts 
seemed  to  burn  within  us,  and  it  was  a  little  foretaste 
of  heaven !" 

These  quotations  furnish  pretty  fair  specimens  of 
his  religious  feelings  for  several  months,  excepting 


EDWARD  PAYSOfi.  217 

'tliose  intertals  when  he  was  greatly  reduced  and  dis- 
heartened by  sickness.  On  emerging  from  the  dark- 
ness of  such  a  season,  he  writes  : 

"  Ja?i.  10,  1811.  This  morning  God  was  pleased 
to  return  and  lift  me  out  of  the  dust.  The  great  com- 
forts with  which  I  was  favored  some  time  since,  ren- 
dered me  proud,  and  I  needed  a  season  of  darkness 
to  humble  me.  Had  much  freedom  and  some  bro- 
kenness  of  heart  this  morning  in  secret  and  family 
prayer,  and  some  ability  to  plead  with  God  not  to  for- 
sake us.     O  how  sovereign  and  free  is  his  grace  !'* 

Under  the  same  date  he  writes  to  his  mother : 

"  Last  Sabbath  was  communion  with  us.  I  preached 
from  Zech.  3  :  2 — Is  not  this  a  brand  plucked  out  of 
the  Jire?  What  a  just  and  striking  description  of 
every  redeemed  sinner !  and  what  a  glorious  idea  does 
it  afford  us  of  the  work  of  redemption  !  To  snatch  a 
smoking  brand  from  eternal  burnings,  and  plant  it 
among  the  stars  in  the  firmament  of  heaven,  there  to 
shine  like  the  sun  for  ever — O  what  a  glorious  work 
is  this !  a  work  worthy  of  God  !  a  work  which  none 
but  God  could  perform.  Such  a  brand  am  I — a  brand 
yet  smoking  with  the  half-extinguished  fires  of  sin ;  a 
l)rand  scorched  and  blackened  by  the  flames  of  hell. 
What  then  do  I  owe  to  Him  who  entered  the  furnace 
of  divine  wrath  that  he  might  bring  me  out !  who  spread 
himself  over  me  as  a  shield  from  that  fiery  storm  which 
would  have  set  me  forth  an  example,  like  Sodom,  suf- 
fering the  vengeance  of  eternal  fire. 

"  I  have  no  heart  to  speak  or  write  about  any  thing 
but  Jesus  ;  and  yet  I  have  little  patience  to  A\Tite  about 
him  in  our  miserably  defective  language.  O  for  a  lan- 
guage suitable  to  speak  his  praises,  and  describe  his 

M,  p.  19 


21S  MEMOIR   07 

glory  and  beauty  !  But  they  cannot  be  described — they 
cannot  be  conceived;  for  'no  man  knoweth  the  Son 
but  the  Father.'  What  a  wonderful  idea  does  that  text 
give  us  of  the  Son  !  Saints  in  heaven  do  not  know  him 
perfectly ;  even  the  angels  do  not.  None  but  the  Father 
is  able  to  comprehend  all  his  excellence.  Yet  various, 
great,  unsearchable,  infinite,  as  are  all  his  excellences, 
they  are  all  ours ;  our  Savior,  our  Head,  '  our  flesh 
and  our  bone.'  O,  wonder  ! — hoAV  passing  wonder  is 
this  !  Methinks,  if  I  could  borrow,  for  a  moment,  the 
archangel's  trump,  and  make  heaven,  earth  and  hell 
resound  with  '  Worthy  is  the  Lamb  that  was  slain  !'  I 
could  contentedly  drop  into  nothing.  But  no — I  should 
wish  to  live,  and  make  them  resound  with  his  name 
through  eternity.  What  a  transporting  thought — to 
spend  an  eternity  in  exalting  God  and  the  Lamb ;  in 
beholding  their  glory,  and  hearing  them  extolled  by  all 
creatures  ! — this  is  heaven  indeed.  To  be  swallowed 
up  and  lost  in  God  ;  to  have  our  spirits  embraced,  wrap- 
ped up  in  his  all-infolding  Spirit ;  to  forget  ourselves, 
and  think  only  of  him  ;  to  lose,  in  a  manner,  cur  own 
separate  existence,  and  exist  only  in  him;  to  have  his 
glory  all  in  all  to  us ;  this  is,  indeed,  a  far  more  exceed- 
ing and  eternal  weight  of  glory." 

About  a  month  later,  he  gives  this  account  of  their 
spiritual  prospects  : — "  Our  hopes  of  increasing  atten- 
tion begin  to  revive  again.  Some  recent  instances  of 
conviction  have  taken  place,  and  we  have  about  thirty 
very  serious  inquirers.  The  church,  too,  are  more 
roused,  and  we  have  as  yet  had  no  scandals  among  us 
for  the  world  to  take  hold  of.  I  cannot  but  hope  that 
God  designs  to  raise  up  a  church  here  which  will 
shine  bright,  and  be  like  a  city  set  on  a  hill.   Satan 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  219 

buffets  them  sorely ;  but  the  more  he  buffets  them,  the 
faster  they  grow.    I  hope  yet,  if  God  pleases,  to  see 

seated  with  us  at   the  communion-table.    It 

would,  I  doubt  not,  rejoice  your  very  heart." 

Some  idea  of  the  variety  and  amount  of  his  labors 
may  be  collected  from  a  single  sentence,  which  is  in- 
cidentally introduced  into  a  letter  dated  February  17 : 
"  I  preach,  or  do  what  is,  at  least,  as  laborious,  six 
nights  in  a  week,  besides  talking  incessantly  a  con- 
siderable part  of  every  day."  It  is  not  improbable  that 
to  his  private  intercourse,  not  less  than  his  public  ad- 
dresses, the  rapid  prosperity  of  religion  is  to  be  as- 
cribed. His  inventive  genius  seemed  to  delight  in  find- 
ing out  as  many  ways  as  possible  by  which  a  reli- 
gious influence  might  be  brought  to  bear  upon  those 
to  whom  he  had  access.  Take  the  following  domestic 
scene  as  an  illustration  :  it  is  unquestionably  the  off- 
spring of  his  own  pious  ingenuity  ;  for  it  bears  as  infal- 
lible marks  of  its  parentage  as  the  description  of  it 
does  of  his  pen  : 

"  I  will  give  you  a  little  sketch  of  our  family 

way  of  living,  that  you  may  adopt  it  if  you  please.  In 
the  first  place,  we  have  agreed,  that,  if  either  of  us  says 
a  word  which  tends  in  the  least  to  the  discredit  of  any 
person,  the  rest  shall  admonish  the  offender ;  and  this 
has  entirely  banished  evil-speaking  from  among  us.  In 
the  next  place  we  are  careful,  especially  in  the  early 
part  of  the  day,  as  at  breakfast,  to  converse  on  nothing 
which  is  HRonsistent  with  maintaining  a  prayerful 
frame.  Christians,  I  believe,  generally  think  they  do 
pretty  well  if  they  pray  twice  a  day  ;  but  I  see  not  why 
we  are  not  just  as  much  commanded  to  pray  without 


^20  MEMOIR  OF 

ceasing,  as  to  pray  at  all.  We  sometimes,  however,  al- 
low  our  minds  a  little  relaxation  at  dinner,  by  con- 
versing on  other  subjects  than  those  which  are  strictly 
religious.  At  the  beginning  of  evening,  before  the  can- 
dles are  brought  in,  if  I  am  at  home,  which  is  not  very 
often  the  case,  we  all  sit  down,  and  take  a  little  tour 
up  to  heaven,  and  see  what  they  are  doing  there.  We 
try  [0  figure  to  ourselves  how  they  feel,  and  how  we 
shall  feel,  and  what  we  shall  do ;  and  often,  while  we 
are  trying  to  imagine  how  they  feel,  our  own  feelings 
become  more  heavenly  ;  and  sometimes  God  is  pleased 
to  open  to  us  a  door  in  heaven,  so  t^at  we  get  a  glimpse 
of  what  is  transacting  there — and 'this  fills  us  so  full 
of  impatience,  that  we  can  scarcely  wait  till  death 
comes  to  carry  us  home.  If  we  cannot  get  together  be- 
fore tea  for  this  purpose,  we  take  a  little  time  after 
prayers,  before  separating  for  the  night ;  and  I  assure 
you  it  forms  an  excellent  preparative  for  sweet  sleep. 
But  enough  of  this  at  present ;  if  you  like  it,  I  will  tell 
you  more  by  and  by." 

"Fefe.  1811. 

"  We  have  been  in  great  danger  from  fire.     It 

was  truly  of  the  Lord's  mercies,  that  we  were  not 
consumed,  with  a  considerable  part  of  the  town 
Just  as  the  water  began  to  fail,  and  all  hopes  were 
over,  the  fire  abated.  I  was  so  much  fatigued  by" 
over  exertion  in  removing  our  things,  that  I  was  mi- 
serably unwell  for  a  fortnight,  but  am  now  recovered. 
Some  acknowledge  the  goodness  of  Go^n  sparing 
the  town ;  but  others  are  dreadfully  hardened.  One 
poor  creature,  as  soon  as  the  fire  was  extinguished, 
cried  out,  '  Well,  we  have  got  it  out,  but  no  thanks 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  221 

to  Payson,  nor  God  neither.'  Another,  after  meet- 
ing, the  ensuing  Sabbath,  observed,  that  he  '  did  not 
like  this  giving  all  the  glory  to  God ;  but  that  man 
ought  to  have  at  least  some  part  of  the  glory  of  put- 
ting out  the  fire.'  This  is,  indeed,  the  natural  lan- 
guage of  every  heart,  but  few  like  to  express  it  so 
openly. 

"  I  fear  that  religion  is  on  the  decline  among  us. 
There  is  still,  however,  considerable  attention,  and 
we  have  had  a  few  remarkable  instances  of  conver- 


"  March  1.  Had  a  most  violent  headache,  and  was 
almost  distracted  ;  yet  was  obliged  to  preach  in  the 
evening.  Found  many  more  present  than  I  expected, 
and  was  unusually  assisted,  and  the  people  were  very 
solemn.  Most  gladly  will  I  glory  in  my  infirmities, 
that  the  power  of  Christ  may  rest  upon  me ;  for  when 
I  am  weak,  then  am  I  strong." 

"  Portland,  March  25,  1811. 
"  My  Dear  Mother, 

"Satan  rages  most  violently  agamst  Christ's 

sheep,  and  I  am  almost  constantly  employed  in  trying 
to  counsel  and  comfort  them  under  their  manifold 
temptations.  However,  the  more  he  rages,  the  faster 
they  grow ;  though  I  have  had  serious  fears  respecting 
some  of  them,  that  they  would  lose  life,  or  reason,  or 
both.  I  now  find  why  my  gracious  Master  has  suffer 
ed  me  to  be  so  grievously  tormented  in  times  past. 
How  miserably  qualified  should  I  otherwise  have  been 
to  speak  a  word  in  season  to  them  that  are  weary ! — 
Still  I,  I,  I !  nothing  but  I's— seven  in  half  a  page. 

M-  p.  19* 


222  MEMOIR  OP 

Well,  I  don't  care — I  am  writing  to  my  mother,  and 
I  know  she  loves  to  hear  about  /;  so  I  will  proceed, 
and  tell  her  about  a  half-sleeping,  half-waking  dream 
I  had  the  other  morning.  If  it  does  her  as  much  good 
as  it  did  me,  it  won't  be  paper  lost. 

"After  a  curious  kind  of  frame  in  sleep,  I  waked 
myself  up  with  exclaiming — '  Lord,  why  is  it  that  thou 
art  never  weary  of  heaping  favors  on  ungrateful,  per- 
verse, stubborn  wretches,  who  render  thee  only  evil 
for  good  ?'  In  a  moment  he  seemed  to  reply  as  pow- 
erfully as  if  he  had  spoken  Avith  an  audible  voice — 
'Because  I  am  never  weary  of  gratifying  my  dear 
Son,  and  showing  the  greatness  of  my  love  to  him. 
Till  I  am  weary  of  him,  and  cease  to  love  him,  I  shall 
never  be  weary  of  heaping  favors  on  his  friends,  how- 
ever unworthy.' — These  words,  it  is  true,  contain  no- 
thing more  than  an  obvious  truth ;  but  they  conveyed 
more  to  my  mind  than  all  the  books  I  ever  read.  If 
you  meditate  upon  them,  perhaps  they  may  convey 
something  to  yours.  What  strong  confidence  are  they 
suited  to  inspire,  if  we  realize  their  full  import  !  How 
will  they  encourage  us  to  ask  and  expect  great  things, 
notwithstanding  our  inexpressible  unworthiness  !  Ne- 
ver before  did  the  scheme  of  redemption,  and  the  great 
mystery  of  God  manifest  in  the  flesh,  appear  so  great 
and  glorious.  W^iile  meditating  upon  it,  I  was  won- 
derfully struck  with  a  reason  which  never  occurred  to 
me  before,  why  God  permitted  Adam  to  fall.  Had  he 
stood,  all  his  posterity  would  have  been  happy.  He 
would,  therefore,  in  one  sense,  have  been  their  Sa- 
vior; and  while  they  were  enjoying  the  happiness  of 
heaven,  they  would  have  exclaimed,  '  For  all  this  we 
are  indebted  to  our  first  parent.'     This  would  have 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  223 

been  too  great  an  honor  for  any  finite  being.  It  would 
have  tempted  Adam  to  pride,  and  us  to  idolatry.  The 
honor,  therefore,  was  reserved  for  God's  own  Son,  the 
second  Adam.  But  perhaps  this  has  occurred  to  you 
before ;  so  I  will  not  enlarge. 

"  Mr.  R.  is  still  in  miserable  health.  He  will  take 
a  journey  in  the  spring.  If  that  does  not  help  him, 
we  shall  think  him  irrecoverable.  I  fear  he  is  too 
good  to  stay  long  on  earth. 

*        +        *        * 

"You  must  not,  certainly,  my  dear  mother,  say  one 
word  which  even  looks  like  an  intimation  that  you 
think  me  advancing  in  grace.  I  cannot  bear  it.  Eve- 
ry body  here,  whether  friends  or  enemies,  are  con- 
spiring to  ruin  me.  Satan  and  my  own  heart,  of 
course,  will  lend  a  hand;  and  if  you  join  too,  I  fear 
all  the  cold  water  which  Christ  can  throw  upon  my 
pride  will  not  prevent  it  from  breaking  out  into  a  de- 
structive flame.  As  certainly  as  any  body  flatters  and 
caresses  me,  my  Father  has  to  whip  me  for  it ;  and  an 
unspeakable  mercy  it  is  that  he  condescends  to  do  it. 
I  can,  it  is  true,  easily  muster  a  hundred  good  reasons 
why  I  should  not  be  proud  ;  but  pride  won't  mind  rea- 
son, nor  any  thing  else  but  a  good  drubbing.  Even  at 
this  moment  I  feel  it  tingling  in  my  fingers'  ends,  and 
seeking  to  guide  my  pen." 

"  April  4.  Spent  the  forenoon  in  writing.  In  the 
afternoon  attended  the  inquiry  meeting,  and  was  re- 
freshed by  seeing  a  number  of  new  inquirers.  The 
Spirit  of  God  seemed  to  be  present.  In  the  evening 
attended  another,  and  found  one  who .  had  obtained 


224  MEMOIR  or 

comfort.  Came  home  exceedingly  fatigued,  but  re- 
joicing in  God. 

"  April  5.  Had  some  sense  of  my  own  weakness, 
and  some  longing  desires  that  God  would  meet  with 
us.  Had  a  most  solemn,  joyful,  and  refreshing  sea- 
son, and  trust  it  was  highly  profitable  to  the  church, 
but  was  myself  exceedingly  overcome. 

"  April  6.  Was  exceedingly  happy  all  day.  En- 
joyed the  peace  of  God,  which  passeth  understanding. 

"  April  8.  Miserably  weak,  both  in  body  and  mind, 
and  exceedingly  wretched  most  of  the  day.  The  light 
of  my  soul  was  withdrawn  from  me.  O  what  a  mi- 
serable wretch  am  I  when  Christ  is  absent !  It  is, 
however,  necessary  that  he  should  sometimes  with- 
draw ;  and  I  was  enabled  to  realize  that  it  was  love 
which  induced  him  to  hide  his  face,  and  I  submitted 
to  it  without  one  murmuring  thought." 

On  the  eighth  of  May  Mr.  Payson  was  married  to 
Ann  Louisa  Shipman,  of  New  Haven,  Connecticut  j 
a  woman  of  kindred  piety,  and  whose  energy  and  firm- 
ness of  character,  connected  with  other  estimable  ac- 
complishments, proved  his  best  earthly  support,  and 
an  abiding  check  upon  his  constitutional  tendency  to 
depression.  Female  afiection  and  ingenuity  could  not 
have  been  better  directed,  or  more  signally  honored 
and  rewarded.  In  the  acquisition  of  such  a  "  help- 
meet," he  justly  considered  himself  as  "  having  ob- 
tained favor  of  the  Lord." 

The  fact  that  the  peace  and  welfare  of  so  many,  as 
well  as  his  own  usefulness,  are  materially  aff'ected  by 
the  character  of  a  pastor's  wife,  deserves  the  consi- 
deration of  all  Vv'ho  are  still  in  a  situation  to  profit  by 
it,     A  chapter  might  be  compiled  from  Mr.  Pavson's 


EDWARD   PAY80N.  225 

letters,  which  would  be  of  great  use  to  the  clerical  can- 
didate for  wedlock,  who  was  anxious  to  know  the  best 
method  of  conducting  the  preliminary  intercourse : 
but  the  favored  object  of  his  conjugal  attachment  still 
survives,  and  her  right  to  the  early  avowals  and  pre- 
cious testimonials  of  his  faithful  love  is  sole  and  ex- 
clusive. Still,  an  instructive  exhibition  of  his  views 
and  of  his  practice  may  be  made,  without  any  indeli- 
cate infringement  of  this  right. 

He  wholly  avoided  those  "  entangling  alliances,"  in 
early  youth,  which  have  doomed  many  a  man  either 
to  take  to  his  bosom  one  whom,  though  once  his  equal, 
he  had  so  far  outstripped  in  the  career  of  mental  im- 
provement as  to  produce  a  most  mortifying  disparity, 
and  preclude  the  hope  of  ever  finding  in  his  Avife  a 
companion  fitted  for  rational  intercourse ;  or  else  to 
desert  the  confiding  female  whose  affections  he  had 
gained — an  alternative  too  base  for  an  honorable- 
minded  man  to  adopt.  Mr.  Payson's  circumspection 
is  the  more  remarkable,  vv^hen  his  ardent  temperament 
is  considered  ;  and  yet,  as  early  as  1805,  the  following 
sober  views  are  expressed  in  a  letter  to  his  sister: 

"  When  I  was  at  home  I  thought  you  appeared  ra- 
ther apprehensive  that  I  should  form  some  connection, 
which,  to  say  the  least,  would  be  no  help  to  my  reli- 
gious pursuits.  But  you  may  lay  aside  this  fear.  I 
have  seen  so  much  of  my  own  proneness  to  turn  aside, 
that  it  is,  and  I  hope  ever  will  be  my  resolution,  not 
to  fetter  myself  with  any  voluntary  inducements  to 
stray.  Besides,  I  think  no  precept  in  the  Bible  is 
plainer  than  that  v/hich  forbids  us  to  yoke  together 
with  unbelievers.  However,  I  think  it  probable  enough 
that  this  resolution  may  be  the  occasion  of  my  conti- 


226  MEMOIR   OF 

nuing  unmarried  ;  but  I  am  not  at  all  anxious  ''bout  it." 
About  the  time  of  his  forming  an  acquaintance  with 
Mrs.  P.  he  thus  wrote  to  his  mother,  whom,  like  a 
dutiful  son,  he  had  previously  consulted : 

"  Exeter^  Wednesday  evening. 
"My  dearest  Mother, 

"  As  I  know  the  deep  interest  you  take  in  every 
thing  which  concerns  your  son,  I  will  go  no  farther  be- 
fore I  inform  you  of  the  result  of  the  business  on  which 
we  conversed  while  I  was  at  home.  I  cannot,  indeed, 
go  into  particulars ;  but  it  may  be  some  gratification 
to  you  to  know,  that  the  business  is  concluded  on, 
and  nothing  remains  but  fix  the  wedding  day.  On  this 
point  alone  we  differed.     *     *     * 

'•  And  now,  my  dearest  mother,  you  must  permit  me 
to  exult  over  you  a  little.  When  I  used  to  talk  of 
getting  a  wife  without  losing  any  time  about  it,  you 
laughed  at  the  idea,  and  thought  it  preposterous,  im- 
practicable, and  absurd.  But  you  see,  that,  without 
going  a  mile  purposely  out  of  my  way,  or  losing  a 
single  hour,  I  have  found,  or  rather  Providence  has 
found  for  me,  a  person  who  bids  fairer  to  render  me 
happy  than  any  other  woman  I  have  seen.  It  is  true, 
many  things  may  yet  intervene  to  prevent  the  con- 
templated connection ;  but,  humanly  speaking,  it  will 
take  place.  And  if  it  does  not,  I  trust  that  I  shall 
be  resigned,  and  feel  satisfied  that  it  is  for  the  best. 
*  ♦  *  At  present,  God  seems  to  have  made  my  way 
prosperous ;  and  I  am  more  than  ever  persuaded  that 
the  best  way  to  succeed  in  any  of  our  temporal  con- 
cerns is  to  cast  them  upon  him — have  nothing  to  do 
with  them — and  devote  ourselves  entirely  to  the  ad- 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  227 

vancement  of  his  cause.  True,  he  only  can  excite  us 
to  adopt  this  course ;  but  when  he  does,  it  is  an  almost 
infallible  symptom  of  success." 

His  mother  must  have  held  a  pen  of  rare  and  vari- 
ous powers — as  piquant  in  satire  as  it  was  judicious  in 
counsel  and  soothing  in  consolation.  She  might  have 
thought  him  affectedly  singular  in  his  notions  of  ma- 
trimony, and  directed  her  strokes  accordingly.  At  any 
rate,  he  is  seen  smarting  under  her  castigation,  in  the 
following  letter,  which,  by  the  way,  is  a  very  serious 
one,  and  discloses  a  heart  alive  to  the  danger  of  being 
diverted,  by  creature  attachments,  from  the  Lord  of  his 
affections : 

'■  I  am  sorry  you  are  never  pleased  with  me 

when  I  write  on  a  certain  subject.  I  fear  this  letter 
will  appear  as  little  pleasing  as  any  of  its  predeces- 
sors. Since  I  wrote  last,  I  have  made  another  visit  to 
A .  Circumstances,  which  I  could  not  foresee,  ren- 
dered it  indispensably  necessary.  I  took  care  not  to  be 
absent  either  on  a  Sabbath  or  lecture  day ;  yet  I  felt 
very  guilty  in  appropriating  so  much  of  my  Master's 
time  to  my  own  use.  A  voice  seemed  continually 
sounding  in  my  ears — 'What  dost  thou  here,  Elijah?' 
Had  it  not  been  for  this,  I  verily  believe  Louisa  and  I 
should  have  taken  a  trip  to  Rindge.  *  *  *  But  the 
idea  of  forming  new  ties  to  bind  myself  to  the  world, 
is  dreadful.  I  thought,  at  the  time,  that  I  sincerely 
'sought  divine  direction;  but  I  have  since  been  afraid 
that  I  did  not.  However,  I  know  that  the  Lord  reigns, 
and  that  he  will  take  care  of  his  glory ;  and  this  is 
enough  for  me.  As  to  my  happiness  here,  it  is  no- 
thing. I  neither  expect  any  happiness,  nor  wish  for 
any,  separate  from  that  which  arises  from  serving  and 


S28  MEMOIR  Of 

enjoying  God.  It  is  but  a  day,  an  hour,  a  moment,  and 
all  will  be  over. 

"  But,  my  dearest  mother,  how  could  you  write 

as  you  did  respecting  the  views  and  feelings  wliich 
my  letter  expressed  ?  It  was  cruel  to  banter  me  so ;  at 
least,  if  any  other  person,  of  as  long  standing  in  reli- 
gion as  you,  had  written  in  such  a  manner,  I  should 
have  been  sure  she  was  bantering  me,  and  ridiculing 
my  weakness.  I  shall  be  afraid  to  express  my  feelings 
again;  and,  indeed,  I  did  not  intend  to  do  it  then,  but 
they  ran  away  with  me  before  I  was  aware.  You  talk 
of  my  heights  and  depths — Yes,  I  am  deep,  indeed,  in 
guilt,  and  my  iniquities  are  high  as  the  heavens.  These 
are  all  the  heights  and  depths  of  which  I  know  any 
thing.  Compared  with  old  Christians,  I  am  but  a  babe 
of  yesterday ;  and  joys,  which  to  them  would  appeal* 
things  of  course,  are  sufficient  to  make  my  weak  head 
run  round.  It  was  for  this  reason  I  thought  my  letter 
must  appear  a  foolish  rhapsody.  But  I  will  not  say 
another  word  on  the  subject,  lest  you  should  suppose 
I  am  aping  humility." 

The  considerations  by  which  he  defended  himself 
against  the  fear  of  possible  disappointment,  which  some 
communication  of  his  cautious  parent  was  adapted 
to  excite,  are  striking  and  full  of  interest.  To  esti- 
mate aright  his  indifference  as  to  the  developments 
of  the  future,  it  should  be  remembered  that  the  negotia-  , 
tion  had  already  proceeded  too  far  to  render  an  honor- 
able retreat  optional  with  him.  The  pledge  "  for  bet- 
ter or  for  worse  "  had  been  virtually  interchanged  ;  and 
the  result,  whether  fruition  or  disappointment,  he  was 
determined  should  subserve  his  spiritual  welfare : 


EDWARt)   PAYSOC^-  229 

"  My  dearest  Mother, 

"  I  am  very  sorry  you  think  me  so  heterodox 

in  my  notions  respecting  matrimony  ;  but  I  cannot  al- 
ter them.  *  *  *  Have  I  not  the  best  possible  se- 
curity that  all  things  shall  work  together  for  my  good  ? 
I  shall  certainly  have  a  good  wife,  and  be  very  happy 
with  her,  if  God  sees  best ;  but  if  he  sees  a  bad  Vv'ife  is 
a  necessary  trial  for  me,  who  am  I,  that  I  should  object  ? 
1  should  certainly  feel  very  easy  about  my  present  wel- 
fare, did  it  depend  entirely  on  your  good  wishes  to  ren- 
der me  happy.  How  much  more  reason,  then,  have  I 
to  be  easy,  since  it  depends  on  my  Father  and  Savior  ! 
If  I  wanted  just  such  a  world  as  this  for  my  own  pri- 
vate accommodation,  methinks  I  could  go  and  ask  it 
of  my  Savior,  just  as  freely  as  I  would  ask  him  for  a 
straw.  He  who  refused  not  his  ov/n  blood,  surely 
would  not  refuse  me  such  a  trifle  as  a  world,  which 
he  could  make  with  a  word,  if  he  saw  that  it  was  real- 
ly necessary  to  my  happiness.  Why,  then,  should  I 
feel  the  least  possible  anxiety  about  a  wife  ?  or  waste 
ray  Master's  time  in  seeking  one  ?" 

A  few  short  extracts  will  be  sufficient  to  show  the 
nature  and  manner  of  his  intercourse  with  the  friend 
to  whom  he  was  affianced : 

"  After  all,  we  shall  be  just  as  much  to  each 

other  as  our  Maker  pleases.  He  can,  and  I  trust  will, 
render  us  as  happy  as  it  is  best  we  should  be  in  this 
life,  and  make  us  a  blessing  to  each  other.  With  his 
permission,  I  purpose  to  observe  Friday,  Dec.  7th,  as  a 
day  of  prayer  for  his  blessing  upon  our  union,  should 
he  permit  it  to  take  place.  I  trust  your  prayers  will 
ascend  with  mine. 

M.  P.  20 


j330  MEMOIR    OP 

■*  ♦  ♦  • 

"  I  was  delighted  with  what  you  wrote  respecting 
our  precious  and  adorable  Savior.  You  cannot  find  a 
quicker  and  surer  way  to  my  heart,  than  by  praising 
and  loving  him.  *  *  *  He  is  worthy,  he  is  precious 
indeed.  To  the  power,  the  majesty,  the  glory  of  God, 
he  unites  the  gentleness,  the  tenderness,  the  sympa- 
thy of  a  friend  and  brother.  This  is  just  such  a  Sa- 
vior as  we  need. 

*  *  *  * 

"  I  arrived  last  evening  much  fatigued.  My  jour- 
ney, though  quickly  performed,  was  not  unattended 
with  danger.  Owing  to  the  Aveakness  of  the  harness 
or  the  carelessness  of  the  driver,  the  horses  ran  away 
with  us  no  less  than  three  times,  and  were  stopped 
only  for  want  of  power  to  proceed.  For  some  minutes 
we  expected  every  instant  to  be  dashed  in  pieces,  and 
my  fellow-passengers  were  not  a  little  frightened  ;  but 
I  Imew  that  my  heavenly  Father  held  the  reins,  and 
felt  unusually  happy. 

"It  is  a  sufficient  answer  to  your  admonitions 

respecting  my  health,  to  say  that  it  has  rather  improv- 
ed than  otherwise  the  year  past ;  and  shall  I,  then,  dis- 
trust the  power  and  goodness  of  God,  and  endeavor, 
by  diminishing  my  labors,  to  lay  up  a  stock  of  health 
for  a  future  period,  which,  after  all,  I  may  never  live 

10  see  ? 

*  *  *  * 

"  I  have  suffered  every  conceivable  kind  of  spiritual 
distress  myself,  and  have  seen  too  much  of  the  good 
effects  of  it  to  be  much  grieved  when  I  see  others  suf- 
fering the  same.  I  know  that  Christ  is  with  them  in 
the  furnace,  and  will  bring  them  forth  as  gold ;  and, 


EDWARD    FAY  SON.  231 

therefore,  though  I  sympathize  with  them,  I  am  rather 

pleased  than  sorry  to  see  them  distressed 

I  have  long  considered  a  growing  acquaintance  with 
the  desperate  wickedness  and  surpassing  deceitfulness 
of  the  heart  as  almost  the  only  mark  of  a  real  Chris- 
tian which  Satan  camiot  counterfeit." 

From  a  union  formed  on  such  principles,  the  hap- 
piest results  were  to  be  expected.  That  gracious  Be- 
ing whose  blessing  they  had  supplicated,  more  than 
answered  their  requests.  On  taking  possession  of  the 
habitation  prepared  for  their  reception,  they  entered 
on  their  new  condition  as  a  separate  family,  with  spe- 
cial acknowledgments  of  God.  "  In  the  evening," 
says  the  diary,  "had  a  meeting  by  way  of  dedicating 
our  house.  It  was  a  very  solemn,  melting  season. 
Afterwards,  was  greatly  favored  in  secret  prayer. 
Knew  not  how  to  give  over  praying,  the  employment 
was  so  sweet.  Could  scarcely  ask  any  thing  for  my- 
self, but  only  that  God  might  be  glorified." — He  lost 
no  time  in  making  his  mother  a  partaker  of  his  joy  : 

"  My  dearest  Mother, 

"  I  must  tell  you  how  happy  I  am  ;  happy,  not  be- 
cause I  have  one  of  the  best  of  wives ;  not  because  I 
live  in  the  midst  of  a  grateful  and  affectionate  people  ; 
not  because  I  am  surrounded  by  an  abundance  of  the 
good  things  of  this  life  ;  but  because  I  enjoy  God  in 
all  these  things. 

"  We  went  to  house-keeping  yesterday.  I  felt  in 
some  measure  as  I  wished  to  feel  on  such  an  occa- 
sion. It  was  a  blessed  evening,  and  this  has  been  a 
blessed  morning.  My  dearest  mother,  I  must  let  my 
heart  have  vent.     All  my  days  I  have  grieved,  pro- 


232  MEMOIR   OF 

voked,  and  dishonored  God,  and  he  has  done  nothing 
but  heap  favors,  and  pardons,  and  honors  upon  mc.  O 
it  affects  me  to  think  of  his  goodness !  O  that  all  the 
world  knew  how  vile  I  have  been,  and  how  good  he 
has  been  in  return.  Could  Christians  know  his  deal- 
ings with  such  a  wretch,  they  would  surely  never, 
never  distrust  him  again.  And  yet  I,  who  do  know 
it,  shall  distrust  him  again.  I  shall  again  grieve  and 
provoke  him,  as  in  times  past,  and  perhaps  be  left  to 
bring  a  reproach  upon  religion.  I  never  felt  myself  to 
be  so  much  in  danger  as  at  this  moment.  I  am  happy 
m  my  own  soul — happy  in  my  external  circumstances ; 
but  I  rejoice  with  trembling.  I  dare  not  resolve  that 
I  will  not  suffer  myself  to  be  led  away  or  lifted  up. 
I  dare  not  say,  that,  by  to-morrow,  I  shall  not  feel  stu- 
pid and  ungrateful  as  a  block;  or  even  full  of  rage  and 
enmity  as  a  devil.  But  I  never  felt  more  able  to  hang 
upon  Christ  and  trust  hmi  to  keep  me  up.  He  knows, 
I  trust,  it  is  my  earnest  desire  to  be  stripped  of  all  my 
blessings,  and  left  utterly  destitute,  rather  than  be 
drawn  by  them  away  from  him. 

"  My  people  have  been  Avonderfully  kind.  As  soon 
as  we  got  into  our  house,  they  sent  us  two  cart-loads 
of  provisions,  &c.  &c.  including  every  article,  how- 
ever trifling,  which  could  be  wanted  in  a  family.  This 
was  kind  in  them,  but  still  more  kind  in  my  heavenly 
Father.  O  may  I  never  forget,  that,  whoever  may  be 
the  stream.  He  is  the  Fountain. 

"  And  now,  my  dearest  mother,  what  more  shall  I 
say?  You  have  nothing  to  wish  for,  nothing  to  pray 
for,  as  it  respects  your  happy  son,  but  that  he  may  not 
be  rendered  slothful,  or  vain,  or  proud,  by  prosperity  ; 
that  his  love  and  zeal  for  his  divine  Master  may  in- 


EDWARD    I'AYSON.  233 

crease  with  his  mercies,  and  that  he  may  be  prepared 

for  a  day  of  adversity  ;  for  such  a  day  mast  come. 
Well,  let  it  come,  if  God  so  pleases.  Welcome  any 
thing  that  he  sees  fit  to  send. 

"  Notwithstanding  your  fears,  I  do  not  yet  love  my 
parents  one  whit  less  than  before.  It  almost  doubles 
my  happiness  to  think  of  their  sharing  it." 

On  his  birth-day  next  following  this  event,  he 
writes: — "The  past  year  has  been  one  of  the  most 
important  of  my  life.  I  have  seen  much,  very  much 
of  the  goodness  of  God,  and  of  my  own  vileness.  I 
have  formed  a  connection  which  will  have  an  influence 
lasting  as  eternity,  and  I  have  reason  to  hope  that  the 
divine  blessing  has  attended  it." 

Two  letters  will  here  be  introduced,  whose  dates 
would  assign  them  a  later  place,  but  which  are  con- 
nected with  the  paragraphs  just  quoted,  by  the  domes- 
tic nature  of  their  contents.  The  second  is  from  his 
mother,  congratulating  him  upon  the  birth  of  his  first- 
born, and  must  supply  the  place  of  his  own  reflections 
on  that  event ;  for  at  that  time  his  diary  is  silent,  and 
the  letter  which  bore  the  tidings  to  his  parents  has 
not  been  preserved. 

"  Portland,  Jan.  20,  1812. 
"  My  dearest  Mother, 

"  Were  you  with  us  to-day  you  would  see  a  strange 
mixture  of  joy  and  grief  among  us.  Your  letter  to 
Grata,  especially  that  part  of  it  which  relates  to  my 
brothers,  gave  us  as  much  joy  as  we  can  ever  expect 
to  feel  in  one  day,  while  inhabitants  of  this  changing 
world.  It  made  our  hearts  leap  within  us  to  hear  of 
poor  Eben,  or  rather  rich  Eben,  as  I  hope  we  may 

M.  p.  20* 


234  MEMOIR    OP 

now  call  him.  But — there  nriist  always  be  a  bnf^  till 
we  get  to  heaven — the  sainj  mail  that  broujrht  this 
welcome  intelligence  brought  a  letter  from  New  Ha- 
ven, informing  us  of  the  death  of  Louisa's  brother 
Henry.  She  is,  of  course,  in  great  affliction,  for  she 
)iad  little  if  any  evidence  that  he  was  prepared  for  this 
event.  I  begin  now  to  find,  for  the  first  time,  that  by 
doubling  myself  I  have  doubled  my  sorrows,  and  ren- 
dered myself  a  broader  mark  for  the  arrows  of  misfor- 
tune. However,  I  am  content  to  meet  with  a  few  de- 
ductions from  the  happiness  which  wedlock  affords. 
I  should  otherwise  be  almost  too  happy  for  my  spirit- 
ual welfare.  T  am  fully  of  your  opinion,  that  marriage 
is  a  wonderfully  wise  and  gracious  institution,  and 
shows,  in  a  striking  point  of  light,  the  goodness  of  our 
heavenly  Father.  I  am  also  convinced,  that,  when 
properly  managed,  it  is  no  less  favorable  to  religion. 
You  will  think  that  I  write  like  a  new-married  man  ; 
and  will,  probably  enough,  conclude,  that,  in  a  few 
years,  I  shall  feel  difl'erently.  It  is  very  possible  that 
I  may  ;  but  hitherto  my  happiness  has  been  continually 
increasing.  We  are  much  mere  attached  to  each  other 
than  we  were  at  first,  and  daily  sec  new  cause  to  ad- 
mire the  wisdom  and  goodness  of  Him  who  fitted  us 
for  each  other,  and  brought  us  together.  I  have,  I  may 
almost  say,  more  temporal  mercies  than  I  wish  for, 
and  they  are  continually  increasing;  they  come  with- 
out asking;  but  neither  by  asking,  nor  in  any  other 
way,  am  1  equally  conscious  of  obtaining  those  spirit- 
ual blessings  which  I  wish  for,  and  which  seem  indis- 
pensably necessary.  HoAvever,  I  do  not  flatter  myself 
that  my  present  happiness  will  continue  long.  Per- 
haps a  few  weeks  will  deprive  me  of  her  whose  soci- 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  235 

ety  constitutes  so  large  a  share  of  it.  God's  will  be 
done.  I  trust  that  he  has,  in  some  measure,  prepared 
me  for  such  an  event.  I  have  viewed  it  in  every  pos- 
sible point  of  light;  and,  so  far  as  I  can  judge,  feel 
willing — yes,  blessed  be  his  name  ! — perfectly  willing 
that  he  should  do  what  he  will  with  his  own.  *  *  *  * 
We  shall  have  your  prayers,  I  doubt  not.  O  how  much 
am  I  already  indebted  to  them ! 

"  I  cannot  close  without  adverting  again  to  the  bless- 
ed change  you  mention  in  our  family.  Give  my  love  to 
E.  Charge  H.  and  P.  to  strive  as  well  as  seek ;  to  re- 
pent and  pray — and  not  to  pray  first  in  order  to  repent 
afterwards.  And  urge  Eliza  to  follow  the  example  of 
her  brothers,  and  remember  her  Creator  in  the  days 
of  her  youth." 

''March  27,  1812. 
"My  ever  dear  Son, 

"  Your  last  was,  indeed,  fraught  with  precious  tid- 
ings; and  we  are  now  to  view  you  and  your  dear 
Louisa  as  sustaining  a  new  and  very  important  rela- 
tion in  life.  May  gracious  Heaven  look  with  benignity 
upon  this  dear  object  of  your  mutual  affections,  and 
realize  your  best  wishes  in  its  behalf.  Precious  babe ! 
already  do  I  clasp  it  in  my  affections,  and  implore  the 
blessing  of  Heaven  upon  it.  Great  is  the  fatigue,  the 
care,  the  anxiety  of  rearing  a  family  ;  but  if  it  is  per- 
formed aright  it  is  a  blessed  work.  You  have  yet  to 
learn  how  difficult  the  task,  and  how  much  patience, 
prudence,  and  grace  is  requisite  to  qualify  us  to  be 
faithful  to  the  sacred  trust  deposited  in  our  keeping. 
Yet,  for  your  encouragement,  and  as  a  debt  of  grati- 
tude due  to  our  most  gracious  Parent,  I  freely  acknow- 


236  MEMOIR  or 

ledge  myself  amply  compensated  for  all  I  have  ever 
suffered  or  done  for  my  Edward.  Alas !  I  have  been 
exceedingly  deficient  in  my  duty  to  my  children ;  but 
with  what  ineffable  goodness  has  God  pardoned  ray 
unfaithfulness,  and  noticed  every  sincere  attempt  to 
discharge,  in  any  measure,  the  important  duties  of  a 
mother,  and,  in  some  instances,  done  more  for  them 
than  I  ever  thought  or  asked.  May  He  enable  you  to 
receive  this  little  one  from  his  gracious  hands,  and,  as 
he  requires,  bring  it  up  for  him.  You  were  very  kind  to 
write  me  so  soon ;  it  w^as  a  proof  of  affection  for  which 
my  heart  thanks  you — but  we  are  looking  impatiently 
for  another  letter. 

"Your  good  father*  put  on  one  of  his  best  smiles, 
upon  hearing  he  was  a  grandfather.  '  Ah !'  he  says, 
*  what  is  it  ?  a  son,  or  a  daughter  ?'  with  other  inqui- 
ries. He  smiled  Avhen  he  read — '  babe  made  the  house 
ring ;'  and  observed,  you  would  not  want  for  music  of 

*The  father  of  Mr.  Payson,  though  he  appears  less  promi- 
nent in  this  Memoir  than  his  mother,  was,  nevertheless,  deserv- 
edly ranked  among  the  first  men  in  New-Hampshire.  Indeed, 
he  stood  high  in  the  confidence  of  the  religious  public  through- 
out New-England ;  and  his  counsel  and  active  exertions  Mere 
much  employed  in  promoting  the  general  interests  of  litera- 
ture and  religion.  In  furtherance  of  these,  he  made  several 
long  journeys  on  horseback;  once  or  twice  as  far  as  Philadel- 
phia, on  business  for  Dartmouth  College,  of  which  he  was  one 
of  the  Trustees.  He  was  also  a  member  of  the  American  Board 
of  Commissioners  for  Foreign  Missions,  as  was  his  son  after 
him.  His  various  public  engagements,  in  addition  to  his  pasto- 
ral duties,  so  engrossed  his  time,  that  the  family  correspondence 
devolved  almost  entirely  on  Mrs.  Payson,  who  held  "the  pen  of 
a  ready  writer."  It  was  unavoidable,  therefore,  that  in  a  me- 
moir, made  up  in  part  of  epistolary  correspondence,  the  mother 
•hould  occupy  the  more  conspicuous  place. 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  237 

that  kind,  he  supposed.  He  is  in  very  good  health,  and 
now  attending  a  conference  in-  a  remote  part  of  the 
town.  *  *  *  * 

"  May  you  be  guided  safely  amidst  the  innumerable 
snares  which  await  our  every  step,  and  your  path,  like 
the  rising  light,  shine  more  and  more  unto  the  perfect 
day.    Thus  prays 

"Your  affectionate  Mother." 

In  December,  1811,  the  senior  pastor's  relation  to 
the  church  was  dissolved,  and  the  sole  care  of  the  con- 
gregation devolved  on  him.  Such  an  event  seldom  fails 
to  divert  the  attention  of  a  people  from  the  im.portant 
concern  of  personal  religion.    But  such  does  not  ap- 
pear to  have  been  the  effect  in  the  present  case,  to  any 
very  lamentable  extent — the  accession  to  the  church 
this  year  being  thifty-nine,  and  the  subsequent  year 
considerably  greater  than  any  preceding.    He  closed 
the  labors  of  this  year  with  a  most  seasonable  dis- 
course from  2  Cor.  4 :  13,  We  also  believe,  and  there- 
fore speak ;  in  which  he  attempted  to  state  the  prin- 
cipal doctrines  which  Paul  professed  to  believe — to 
show  that  he  did  actually  believe  them — that  he  had 
sufficient  reasons  to  believe  them — and  that  this  belief 
necessarily  led  him  to  preach  and  conduct  in  the  man- 
ner he  did.    The  sermon  is  a  happy  exemplification  of 
ministerial  address  and  of  ministerial  faithfulness.  He 
could  not  have  taken  a  more  unexceptionable  method 
of  presenting  his  own  views,  than  by  exhibiting  what 
Paul  believed  and  taught ;  nor  more  completely  have 
justified  the  earnestness  with  which  he  pressed  them 
upon  his  hearers,  than  by  bringing  into  view  the  mo- 
mentous interests  which  they  involve.    To  those  who 


238  MEMOIR    OP 

are  familiar  with  the  epistles  of  Paul,  it  is  hardly  ne- 
cessary to  say  that  his  sketch  asserts  the  fall  of  man, 
and  the  consequent  universal  depravity  of  the  human 
race ;  and  the  other  doctrines  peculiar  to  the  Christian 
system,  which  necessarily  result  from  this,  respecting 
the  personal  glories  and  mediatorial  offices  of  Christ, 
and  the  way  of  a  sinner's  justification  and  acceptance 
with  God.  It  was  a  popular  and  useful  defence  of 
evangelical  doctrines,  and  of  ministerial  zeal,  and  was 
applied  to  the  auditory  with  pungent  force. 

His  diary  during  this  year  authorizes  some  infer- 
ences besides  that  of  his  spirituality  and  devotion  to 
his  work.  A  few  short  extracts  of  each  kind  will  form 
an  appropriate  conclusion  to  the  chapter: 

*'  July  17.  Heard  much  to-day  of  the  rage  of  op- 
posers  ;  found  others  much  discouraged  by  it.  Was 
driven  by  it  to  the  throne  of  grace,  and  there  found 
unusual  enlargement  in  pleading  for  the  effusion  of  the 
Spirit.  Never  felt  more  drawn  out  in  prayer  for  this, 
and  could  not  help  hoping  that  he  would  espouse  our 
cause.  Was  deeply  affected  with  the  sovereign  good- 
ness of  God. 

-'  Aug.  O  what  a  privilege  it  would  be  to  have 
strength  to  labor  all  the  time  for  God  ! 
•  "  Se'pt.  24,  25.  Was  called  up  at  midnight  by  some 
mischievous  person,  and  sent  off  to  see  a  person  said 
to  be  dying.  .  .  .  Found  it  a  serious  joke  to  me,  for  I 
took  cold,  and  was  sick  several  days. 

"  Seft.  29.  Had  a  most  refreshing  season  this  morn- 
ing in  prayer.  Felt  most  intense  hatred  of  sin,  and 
desired  to  be  free  from  its  power. 

"  Oct.  5.  Have  been  abundantly  convinced  to-day, 
that  it  is  not  a  vain  thmg  to  call  upon  God.     Was  re- 


EDW.IED    PAYSON.  239 

markably  assisted  in  preparing  for  to-morrow.  In  the 
evening  was  favored  Avith  an  uncommonly  precious 
season  in  prayer.  O  hoAv  different  does  every  thing 
appear  vv'hen  God  is  present !  He  is  indeed  all  in  all 
to  me. 

"  Oct.  8.  Enjoyed  a  most  delightful  season  in  prayer. 
Had  such  strong  confidence  in  God,  from  a  view  of  his 
willingness  to  give,  that  I  felt  ready  to  ask  and  expect 
every  thing  in  his  power  to  bestow.  Knew  not  how 
to  stop,  till  I  was  utterly  exhausted. 

"  Oct.  10.  Had  some  different  views  of  Christ  and 
heaven  from  any  I  ever  before  enjoyed,  so  that  I  felt 
the  fullest  assurance  of  salvation,  and  wished  to  be 
saved,  that  I  might  praise  and  love  God  perfectly. 

'•  Oct.  22.  Was  enabled  to  cast  all  my  cares  on  the 
Lord,  and  felt  lightened.  Never  did  the  Bible  seem 
so  sweet,  never  did  the  light  of  God's  countenance 
seem  so  exquisitely  precious  as  now ;  nor  did  I  ever 
more  need  it. 

''  Oct.  24.  In  the  course  of  the  day  saw  an  Indian. 
Was  instantly  struck  and  much  aflfected  with  a  sense 
of  his  wretched  condition.  Never  Jiad  such  feelings 
before.  In  the  evening  had  great  freedom  in  praying 
for  poor  savages  and  others  who  are  destitute  of  the 
light  of  the  Gospel. 

'-'  Nov.  7.  Felt  a  little  revived.  Set  up  a  little 
prayer  meeting  in  my  family^  for  a  revival,  and  had 
some  liberty. 

"  Nov.  28.  Had  a  most  refreshing  and  delightful 
season  in  prayer  this  morning.  Felt  something  of  the 
life  and  power  of  religion  through  the  day.  In  the 
evening  preached,  .  .  .  and  was  uncommonly  assisted, 
and  the  people  appeared  much  aflfected.     Felt  much 


240 


MEMOIR    OP 


gratitude  to  God  for  his  assistance,  and  much  encou- 
raged respecting  a  revival." 


CHAPTER    Xm. 


Pomuof  prayer — Thoughts  on  piiblic  prayer — ffis  sincerity 
a  grand  means  of  his  success. 

"  You  would  greatly  oblige  me  by  loaning  me  a  copy 
of  your  prayer  to-day,"  said  a  distinguished  lady  to  Dr. 
Payson,  as  he  was  retiring  from  the  house  of  worship 
on  a  memorable  occasion.  She  was  surprised  on  being 
told  that  it  had  vanished  with  the  breath  which  gave 
it  utterance.  This  lady  was  not  an  attendant  on  his 
ministry,  but  had  come  at  this  time  with  the  expec- 
tation of  seeing  La  Fayette  in  the  assembly,  and,  in 
common  with  many  others,  was  filled  with  admiration 
of  the  intercessory  part  of  the  exercises,  as  differing  i 
from  all  she  had  ever  heard,  in  richness  and  appro-  " 
priateness  of  matter,  as  well  as  in  fervor  of  utterance. 
Few,  it  is  believed,  ever  heard  him  for  the  first  time, 
even  in  the  family  or  on  the  most  common  occasion, 
without  experiencing  kindred  emotions.  The  wonder, 
00,  was  enhanced,  rather  than  diminished,  by  every 
repetition  of  the  exercise.  To  those  whose  devotions 
he  led  for  twenty  years,  in  the  sanctuary,  in  the  prayer- 
meeting,  by  the  sick  bed,  at  festivals  and  funerals, 
every  prayer  seemed  to  have  all  the  freshness  of  ori- 
ginality. His  resources  for  this  duty  appeared  to  be 
absolutely  inexhaustible.    There  was  something  in  his 


EOWAKD    PAY50X.  241 

prayers  powerful  to  arrest  and  fix  attention— something 
which  seized  and  absorbed  the  faculties  of  the  soul, 
and  separated  it,  for  the  time  being  at  least,  from  its 
connections  with  "  this  present  evil  world."  The  full, 
deep,  reverent,  flexible,  suppliant  tones  of  his  voice,  as 
far  removed  from  the  cant  of  the  fanatic  as  they  were 
from  the  levity  of  the  witling,  contributed  something 
to  the  effect  of  his  public  devotions. 

The  question  has  been  asked  by  more  than  one  dis- 
tinguished minister  since  Dr.  Payson's  death,  whether 
he  left  behind  him  any  written  forms  of  prayer.  So 
far  from  this,  it  is  believed  he  never  wrote  a  prayer. 
There  are,  indeed,  interspersed  throughout  his  private 
writings  and  sermons,  numerous  ejaculations  and  sup- 
plicatory paragraphs ;  but  nothing  intended  exclusively 
as  a  prayer.  His  "  Confession  and  Form  of  Covenant," 
in  a  preceding  chapter,  bears  the  nearest  resemblance 
to  a  prayer  of  any  thing  which  has  been  discovered 
from  his  pen,  and  will  give  a  better  idea  than  any  de- 
scription, of  the  leading  impression  which  his  prayers 
produced  on  the  hearers,  namely,  the  infinite  disparity 
which  exists  between  God  and  the  creature,  at  the  same 
time  that  it  brings  to  view  numerous  particulars  in 
which  this  contrast  may  be  seen.  "  God  is  in  heaven, 
and  we  upon  earth,"  was  the  great  truth  which  stood 
forth  with  distinguished  prominence  in  his  invocations, 
confessions,  pleadings,  intercessions,  and  ascriptions. 
'  God  is  in  this  place,"  was  a  truth  not  less  vividly 
.mpressed  on  the  minds  of  his  auditors  when  he  poured 
out  his  soul  in  prayer.  They  saw,  they  felt  that  he 
pleaded  with  a  'present  God.  His  prayers  conformed, 
with  singular  felicity,  to  his  own  definition  of  the  ex- 
ercise, which  makes  it  "a  kind  of  devout  poetry,  the 

M.  P.  21 


242  MEIilOIR    OP 

■whole  subject  matter  of -which  is  furnished  by  the  heart ; 
and  the  understanding  is  onlj-  allowed  to  shape  and 
arrange  the  effusions  of  the  heart  in  the  manner  best 
adapted  to  honor  the  Being  to  whom  prayer  is  address- 
ed, and  to  excite  and  direct  the  devotional  feelings  of 
his  v/orshipers." 

But  a  thousand  forms  of  his  prayers  even,  could 
never  teach  another  to  pray  like  him.  He  neither  found 
for  himself,  nor  could  he  mark  out  for  others,  a  '*  royal 
road"  to  the  throne  of  grace;  and  the  "gift  of  prayer." 
for  which  he  v/as  so  eminent,  was  not  attained  without 
corresponding  efforts  on  his  part.  It  Avas  by  his  daily 
retired  practice,  that  he  became  so  skillful  and  prevail- 
ing a  pleader  with  his  God.  There  can  be  no  doubt 
on  this  point.  His  journal,  through  several  successive 
years,  records  repeated  seasons  of  prayer  for  almost 
every  day,  together  with  the  state  of  his  affections,  and 
the  exercise  or  Avant  of  those  graces  which  constitute 
the  "  spirit  of  supplication."  It  requires  much  of  a 
devotional  spirit  even  to  read  these  perpetually  recur- 
ring descriptions  of  his  "  wrestling  in  prayer,"  of  his 
"  near  access  to  the  mercy-seat,"  as  Avell  as  of  those 
difficulties  which  sometimes  barred  his  approach  ;  for, 
to  an  undevout  min^J,  they  would  present  nothing  but 
a  wearisome,  disgusting,  endless  monotony.  When 
the  inventive  character  of  his  mind  is  considered,  its 
exquisite  delight  in  every  thing  that  was  original,  these 
records  exhibit  the  most  infallible  evidence  of  his  love 
for  devotion.  His  continuing  instant  in  'prayer,  be 
his  circumstances  what  they  might,  is  the  most  no- 
ticeable fact  in  his  history,  and  points  out  the  duty  of 
all  who  woul  1  rival  his  eminency.  There  is  no  magic 
abTJt  it.     '  The  arrow  that  would  pierce  the  clouds 


EDWARD    PAY90N.  243 

must  go  from  the  nerved  arm  and  the  bent  bow."  But 
if  prayer,  to  be  successful,  must  be  ardent,  so  must  it 
be  not  fitful,  but  habitual. 

If,  however,  he  has  not  left  a  form,  he  has,  happily, 
left  some  thoughts  on  public  prayer,  which  will  be  of 
greater  value,  especially  to  ministers  of  the  Gospel; 
and  as  in  his  practice  he  illustrated  his  own  instruc- 
tions, a  stranger  to  him  may  obtain  from  them  a  bet- 
ter knowledge  of  his  manner  than  from  any  descrip- 
tion of  it  by  another  hand. 

"  What    are    the    principal    excellences     which 

SHOULD  be  cultivated,  AND  THE  DEFECTS  WHICH 
SHOULD  BE  AVOIDED,  BY  MINISTERS  OF  THE  GOSPEL, 
IN  THE  PERFORMANCE  OF  THEIR  PUBLIC  DEVOTIONAL 
EXERCISES  ? 

"  The  excellence  of  any  performance  consists  m 
its  being  adapted  to  answer  the  end  for  which  it  is 
designed.  So  far  as  it  is  not  adapted  to  answer  that 
end,  it  must  be  considered  defective.  The  design  of 
public  prayer,  considered  as  a  part  of  ministerial  duty, 
is  to  honor  the  Being  to  whom  it  is  addressed,  and  to 
excite  and  direct  the  devotional  feelings  of  his  wor- 
shipers. These  two  objects,  though  distinct,  are  in- 
separably connected,  and  are  to  be  attamed  by  the 
same  means  ;  for  it  will  ever  be  found,  that  that  mode 
of  performing  the  duty  of  public  prayer  which  is  best 
adapted  to  promote  the  honor  of  God,  is  best  calcu- 
lated to  excite  and  direct  the  devotional  feelings  of 
the  hearers.  That  our  devotional  performances  may 
secure  the  attainment  of  these  united  objects,  they 
must  be  the  echo  of  a  fervently  picus  heart,  guided  by 


244  MEMOIR .  OP 

a  judicious  and  enlightened  mind,  to  the  voice  of  God, 
as  uttered  in  his  works  and  his  Avord.  An  expression 
of  the  psalmist  will  illustrate  my  meaning: — 'When 
thou  saidst,  Seek  ye  my  face,  my  heart  said  unto  thee, 
Thy  face.  Lord,  will  I  seek.'  In  a  similar  manner 
should  our  public  addresses  to  God  be  the  echo  of  his 
language  to  us.  Our  adorations  and  ascriptions  of 
praise  should  thus  respond  to  what  he  has  revealed 
of  his  natural  and  moral  perfections ;  our  confessions, 
to  the  charges  Avhich  he  has  preferred  against  us,  and 
to  the  punishments  with  which  he  threatens  us  ;  our 
petitions  and  intercessions,  to  his  commands,  his  pro- 
mises, and  the  description  he  has  given  of  our  own 
wants,  and  those  of  our  fellow-creatures ;  and  our 
thanksgivings,  to  the  favors  which  he  has  bestoAved 
on  ourselves,  our  countrymen,  and  our  race.  When 
our  devotional  performances  thus  echo  back  the  voice 
of  God,  we  cannot  fail  to  promote  both  his  glory  and 
the  edification  of  our  people.  We  then  follow  a  guide 
w^hich  cannot  mislead  us;  we  express  the  very  feel- 
ings which  his  language  to  us  is  designed  and  calcu- 
lated to  excite;  we  set  our  seal  to  the  truth  of  his  de- 
clarations, say  Amen  to  all  that  he  has  seen  fit  to  re- 
veal to  us,  and  teach  our  hearers  to  do  the  same. 
Thus,  while  we  avoid  the  too  common  fault  of^ preach- 
ing in  prayer,  our  prayers  will  preach,  and  prove  no 
less  instructive  than  our  sermons.  We  shall  at  the 
same  time  excite  them  to  pray,  and  teach  them  how 
to  pray.  While  Ave  speak  as  the  mouth  of  our  people 
to  God,  Ave  shall,  in  an  indirect,  but  most  impressive 
manner,  be  the  mouth  of  God  to  our  people,  and  set 
before  them  their  duty,  as  it  respects  both  faith  and 
practice,  in  a  Avay  least  calculated  to  offend,  and  in 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  245 

those  solemn  moments  when  the  exhibition  of  truth 
is  most  likely  to  affect  them. 

"  If  the  preceding  remarks  be  just,  it  will  be  easy  to 
infer  from  them  what  are  the  principal  faults  which 
should  be  avoided  by  us  in  leading  the  devotions  of 
our  hearers. 

"In  the  first  place,  I  conceive  that  our  devotional 
performances  are  too  often  the  language  of  the  under- 
standing, rather  than  of  the  heart.     It  has  been  ob- 
served that  they  should  be  the  echo  of  a  fervently- 
pious  heart,  guided  by  an  enlightened  understanding, 
to  the  voice  of  God.     It  is  not,   perhaps,   uncandid 
to  remark,  that  our  expressions  in  public  prayer  are 
not  always  guided  by  an  enlightened  understanding  ; 
but  still  less  frequently,  probably,  are  they  the  echo 
of  a  fervently-pious  heart  to  the  voice  of  God.     They 
too  often  consist  almost  entirely  of  passages  of  Scrip- 
ture— not  always  judiciously  chosen  or  well  arranged 
— and  common-place  phrases,  which  have  been  trans- 
mitted down  for  ages,  from  one  generation  of  minis- 
ters to  another,  selected  and  put  together  just  as  we 
would  compose  a  sermon  or  essay,  while  the  heart  is 
allowed  no  share  in  the  performance  ;  so  that  we  may 
more  properly  be  said  to  make  a  prayer^  than  to  pray. 
The  consequence  is,  that  our  devotional  performances 
are  too  often  cold  and  spiritless  :  as  the  heart  did  not 
assist  in  composing,  it  disdains  to  aid  in  uttering  them. 
They  have  almost  as  much  of  a  form  as  if  we  made 
use  of  a  liturgy ;  while  the  peculiar  excellences  of  a 
liturgy  are  wanting.     Our  hearers  soon  become  fami- 
liarized to  our  expressions,  and  not  unfrequently  learn 
to  anticipate  them ;  and,  though  they  may  possibly 
be  instructed,  their  devotional  feelings  are  not  excited. 
M.  p.  21* 


246 


MEMOIR   OF 


"  That  public  prayer  may  produce  its  proper  and 
designed  effects  upon  their  hearts,  it  should  be,  if  I 
may  so  express  it,  a  kind  of  devout  poetry.  As  in 
poetry,  so  in  prayer,  the  whole  subject  matter  should 
be  furnished  by  the  heart;  and  the  understanding 
should  be  alloAved  only  to  shape  and  arrange  the  ef- 
fusions of  the  heart  in  the  manner  best  adapted  to  an- 
swer the  end  designed.  From  the  fullness  of  a  heart 
overflowing  with  holy  affections,  as  from  a  copious 
fountain,  we  should  pour  forth  a  torrent  of  pious, 
humble,  and  ardently-affectionate  feelings;  while  our 
understandings  only  shape  the  channel,  and  teach  the 
gushing  streams  of  devotion  where  to  flow,  and  when 
to  stop.  In  such  a  prayer  every  pious  heart  among 
our  hearers  will  join.  They  will  hear  a  voice  and 
utterance  given  to  their  own  feelings.  They  will 
hear  their  own  desires  and  emotions  expressed  more 
fully  and  perspicuously  than  they  could  express  them 
themselves.  Their  hearts  will  spring  forward  to  meet 
and  unite  with  the  heart  of  the  speaker.  The  well  of 
water  which  our  Savior  assures  us  is  in  all  who  drink 
of  his  Spirit,  will  rise  and  burst  its  Avay  through  the 
rubbish  of  worldly  cares  and  affections  which  too 
often  choke  it;  and  the  stream  of  devotion  Trom  many 
hearts  will  unite  and  floAv  on  in  one  broad  tide  to  the 
throne  of  Jehovah ;  while,  with  one  mind  and  one, 
mouth,  minister  and  people  glorify  God.  Such  was 
the  prayer  of  Ezra,  and  such  its  effects  : — '  And  Ezra 
blessed  the  Lord,  the  great  God.  And  all  the  people 
answered,  Amen,  amen,  with  lifting  up  of  their  hands ; 
and  they  bowed  their  heads,  and  worshiped  the  Lord 
with  their  faces  toward  the  ground.' 

"  Leading  the  devotion  of  our  people  in  this  man- 


•  EDWARD   FAYSON.  247 

ner  will  preserve  us  from  another  fault,  less  important 
indeed,  but  not  less  common  than  that  which  has  just 
been  mentioned,  and  which,  in  part,  is  occasioned  by- 
it.    It  consists  in  uttering  the  different  parts  of  prayer 
in  the  same  tone.   When  our  prayers  are  the  language 
of  the  understanding  only,  this  will  always  be  done; 
but  not  so  when  they  flow  from  the  heart.   No  person 
need  be  informed,  that,  in  our  intercourse  with  each 
other,  a  different  modification  of  the  voice  is  employed 
to  express  every  different  emotion  of  the  heart.    No 
one  would  expect  to  hear  a  condemned  malefactor 
plead  for  his  life  and  return  thanks  for  a  pardon  in 
the  same  tone.    And  why  is  it  not  equally  unnatural 
for   sinful   beings,   condemned   to   eternal   death,  to 
plead  for  pardon  and  return  thanks  for  its  bestowal  in 
the  same  tone  ?    Yet  how  often  is  this  done  !    How 
often  do  we  hear  prayers  flow  on,  from  the  commence- 
ment to  the  close,  in  the  same  uniform  tone,  with 
scarcely  a  perceptible  inflection  of  the  voice !   Yet  no 
two  things  can  differ  more  widely  than  the  feelings 
which  are  expressed  in  different  parts  of  the  same 
prayer.    Surely,  then,  a  corresponding  difference  ought 
to  be  perceived  in  the  modifications  of  the  voice.   In 
every  other  public  expression  of  our  feelings  such  a 
difference  is  expected  and  required.    The  effect  of  the 
most  eloquent  composition  would  be  greatly  impaired, 
not  to  say  wholly  destroyed,  by  a  delivery  perfectly 
monotonous.    The  effects  of  the  same  cause  upon  de- 
votional  performances    will   be   similar.    Where   no 
fervency  of  feeling  is  indicated,  it  will  usually  be 
found  that  none  is  excited ;  and,  since  one  principal 
design  of  public  prayer  is  to  excite  the  devotional  feel- 
ings of  the  hearers,  it  is  evident  that  a  fault  which  so 


248  MEMOIR    OF 

powerfully  tends  to  defeat  this  design  cannot  be  a  fault 
of  trifling  consequence.  I  am  however  aware  that  in 
attempting  to  avoid  this  fault,  the  exercise  of  grea^ 
care  and  of  much  judgment  and  good  taste  is  requi- 
site to  preserve  us  from  an  aflecicJ  or  theatrical  man- 
ner, v/hich  is  a  fault  much  more  to  be  deprecated. 
Still  I  conceive  that  when  we  feel  as  we  ought,  v.e 
shall  find  no  difficulty  or  danger  in  this  respect.  Our 
hearts  will  then,  without  any  effort  on  our  part,  insen- 
sibly teach  us  to  express  its  emotions  in  a  correspond- 
ing tone,  and  in  the  manner  best  adapted  to  excite  si- 
milar feelings  in  the  breasts  of  our  hearers.  But  it 
our  devotional  feelings  are  habitually  languid,  if  our 
hearts  do  not  teach  our  lips,  it  is  perhaps  advisable  to 
aim  at  nothing  beyond  a  monotonous  solemnity,  rather 
than,  by  affecting  what  v.-e  do  not  feel,  to  incur  the 
certain  displeasure  of  our  Master,  and  the  probable 
contempt  of  our  most  judicious  hearers.  If  we  have 
no  thoughts  or  feelings  that  glow,  it  is  worse  than  use- 
less to  afiect  '  words  that  burn.' 

"  Another  fault,  which  is  not  unfrequently  found  in 
our  devotional  performances,  I  know  not  how  to  de- 
scribe better  than  by  saying  that  it  consists  in  praying 
more  like  an  awakened  but  still  impenitent  sinner,  or 
more  as  such  a  character  might  be  supposed  to  pray, 
than  like  a  real  Christian.  Different  causes  probably 
tend  to  the  adoption  of  this  method.  Some  are  appa- 
rently led  to  it  by  doubts  respecting  their  own  charac- 
ter. They  often  suspect  that  they  are  not  truly  pious, 
and  therefore  they  fear  to  utter  the  language  of  a  pious 
heart.  Others  seem  to  adopt  it  in  consequence  of  false 
numility.  They  fear  it  would  be  thought  indicative  of 
pride  should  they  use  expressions  which  intimate  that 


EDWARD    TAYSON.  249 

they  think  themselves  to  be  the  real  disciples  of  Christ. 
A  third  class  probably  adopt  this  method  with  a  view 
to  offer  prayers  in  which  awakened,  but  still  impeni- 
tent sinners  may  join.  But  whatever  may  be  the  mo- 
tives which  lead  to  the  adoption  of  such  a  method,  it 
is,  I  conceive,  a  fault  which  ought  to  be  avoided.  It  is, 
indeed,  a  common,  and,  with  some  limitation,  a  just 
remark,  that  a  minister  is  the  mouth  of  his  people  to 
God.  It  is,  however,  of  the  pious  part  of  his  congrega- 
tion only  that  he  is  the  mouth.  His  prayer,  then,  should 
be  the  echo,  not  of  an  impenitent,  but  of  a  pious  heart 
to  the  voice  of  God.  He  should  pray  with  those  who 
are  pious,  and  for  those  who  are  not  so.  Instead  of 
praying  that  himself  and  those  who  unite  with  him 
may  exercise  the  feelings  of  a  Christian,  he  should  ex- 
plicitly express  those  feelings.  This  is  necessary  for 
his  own  sake,  if  he  be  truly  pious ;  for,  if  he  be  so,  he 
cannot  sincerely  utter  the  language  of  an  impenitent 
heart.  It  is  necessary  for  the  sake  of  his  pious  hear- 
ers ;  for,  while  he  is  attempting  to  form  a  prayer  in 
which  all  may  join,  he  will  utter  many  expressions  in 
which  they  cannot  unite.  It  is  also  necessary  even  for 
the  sake  of  his  impenitent  hearers  ;  for  it  is  highly  im- 
portant for  them  to  be  convinced  that  they  do  not,  and, 
with  their  present  feelings,  cannot  pray ;  and  nothing 
will  tend  more  effectually  to  convince  them  of  this  im- 
portant truth,  than  listening  to  prayers  in  which  truly 
pious  feelings  and  holy  exercises  are  distinctly  ex- 
pressed. For  similar  reasons  it  is  desirable  that  we 
should  not  always  pray  in  a  manner  suited  only  to  in- 
experienced, weak,  or  declining  Christians.  Instead  of 
descending  to  their  standard,  we  must  endeavor  to  raise 
them  to  ours.  If  we  wish  our  people  to  feel  dissatisfied 


230  MEMOIR    OP 

with  their  present  attainments,  and  to  become  emi- 
nent Christians,  we  must  accustom  them  to  hear  the 
devotional  language  of  eminent  Christians,  by  uttering 
such  language  in  our  prayers,  if,  indeed,  we  can  do  it 
without  uttering  what  we  do  not  feel.  As  an  eagle 
tempts  her  young  to  soar  higher  than  they  would  dare 
to  do  were  they  not  encouraged  by  her  example,  so  the 
minister  of  Christ  should,  occasionally  at  least,  allure 
his  people  to  the  higher  region  of  devotion,  by  taking 
a  bolder  flight  than  usual,  and  uttering  the  language  of 
strong  faith,  ardent  love,  unshaken  confidence,  assured 
hope,  and  rapturous  gratitude,  admiration,  and  joy. 
Some  of  his  hearers  can,  probably  at  all  times,  follow 
him,  and  many  others  who  at  first  tremble  and  hesi- 
tate— many  Avho  would  scarcely  dare  adopt  the  same 
language  in  their  closets,  M-ill  gradually  catch  the  sa- 
cred flame — their  hearts  will  burn  within  them.  While 
their  pastor  leads  the  way,  they  will  mount  up  as  on  ea- 
gles' wings  towards  heaven,  and  return  from  the  house 
of  prayer,  not  cold  and  languid  as  they  entered,  but 
glowing  with  the  fires  of  devotion.  In  this,  as  well  as 
in  other  respects,  it  will  in  some  measure  be  '  like  peo- 
ple, like  priest.'  If  we  thus  strike  the  golden  harp  of 
devotion,  we  shall  soon  find  our  pious  hearers  able  to 
accompany  us  through  its  whole  compass  of  sound, 
from  the  lovv''  notes  of  humble,  penitential  sorrow,  up 
to  the  high,  heart-thrilling  tones  of  rapturous  joy,  ad- 
miration, love,  and  praise,  which  are  in  union  with 
the  harps  of  the  redeemed  before  the  throne. 

"  Another  fault,  sometimes  found  in  devotional  per- 
formances which  are  otherwise  unexceptionable,  is  the 
want  of  sufficient  particularity.  Indeed,  most  of  our 
public  prayers  are  too  general.    They  bring  so  much 


EDWARD    PATSON.  251 

Into  view,  that  nothing  is  seen  distinctly.  It  is  well 
known,  that,  if  we  except  sublime  and  terrible  objects, 
nothing  affects  the  mind,  unless  it  be  clearly  and  dis- 
tinctly perceived.  If  the  most  admired  descriptive  po- 
ems, and  those  which  produce  the  greatest  effect  upon 
our  feelings,  be  carefully  examined,  it  will  be  found 
that  they  derive  their  power  to  affect  us  almost  entire- 
ly from  a  minute  and  striking  description  of  a  few  ju- 
diciously-selected particulars.  It  is  the  same  with  our 
devotional  performances.  We  may  praise  God,  or  con- 
fess sin,  or  pray  for  mercy,  or  return  thanks  for  divine 
favor,  in  a  general  way,  without  being  ourselves  af- 
fected, and  without  exciting  the  affections  of  our  hear- 
ears.  But;  when  we  descend  to  particulars,  the  effect 
is  different.  The  mind  receives,  drop  after  drop,  till  it 
is  full  We  should,  therefore,  aim  at  as  great  a  degree 
of  particularity  as  the  time  allotted  us  and  the  variety 
of  topics  on  which  Ave  must  touch  will  allow.  Espe- 
cially is  it  important  that  we  enter  deeply  and  parti- 
cularly into  every  part  of  Christian  experience,  and 
lay  open  all  the  minute  ramifications  and  almost  im- 
perceptible workings  of  the  pious  heart  m  its  various 
situations,  and  thus  show  our  hearers  to  themselves  in 
every  point  of  view.  In  a  word,  our  public  prayers 
should  resemble,  as^nearly  as  propriety  will  allow,  the 
breathings  of  an  humble,  judicious,  and  fervently  pious 
Christian  in  his  private  devotions.  The  prayer  of  the 
pulpit  differs  too  much — it  should  differ  as  little  as  pos- 
sible— from  the  prayer  of  the  closet.  A  neglect  in  this 
particular  often  renders  our  performances  uninterest- 
ing and  unacceptable  to  those  whom  we  should  most 
desire  to  gratify. 
"  Such,  I  conceive,  are  the  principal  defects  which 


252  MEMOIR   CF 

are  most  frequently  found  in  our  devotional  perform- 
ances. It  is  obvious  that  they  are  all  occasioned,  either 
wholly  or  in  part,  by  a  languid  state  of  devotional  feel- 
ing ;  and  that  the  only  effectual  remedy  is  to  be  sought 
in  the  diligent  cultivation  of  a  frame  of  temper  habi- 
tually devout.  That  a  minister  may  lead  the  devotions 
of  his  people  in  the  most  suitable  and  edifying  man- 
ner, it  seems  indispensable  that  he  should  possess  a 
mind  deeply  imbued  with  divine  truth ;  a  mind,  into 
the  very  frame  and  texture  of  which  the  doctrines  of 
revelation  are  wrought ;  and  a  heart  thoroughly  broken 
and  humbled  for  sin,  and  tremblingly  alive  to  the  voice 
of  God,  and  ever  glowing  with  celestial  fire.  He,  who, 
with  such  a  mind  and  such  a  heart,  liv^es  much  in  his 
closet,  praying,  as  the  apostle  expresses  it.  in  the  Holy 
Ghost,  and  habitually  imploring  his  assistance  to  help 
his  infirmities,  will  always  lead  the  devotions  of  his 
people  in  a  judicious,  edifying,  and  acceptable  man- 
ner; cor  will  he  need  the  aid  of  a  precomposed  form. 
In  his  prayers,  as  well  as  in  his  sermons,  he  will  con- 
stantly bring  out  of  his  treasury  things  new  and  old. 
But  if  our  hearts  will  not  pray,  or  teach  us  in  what 
manner  to  cry  to  our  heavenly  Father  and  Redeemer, 
our  understandings  must ;  and  we  must  either  com- 
pose or  borrow  forms  for  that  plirpose.  How  far,  in 
this  case,  we  can  be  considered  as  called  to  the  work 
of  the  ministry,  or  fitted  for  it,  is  not  for  me  to  say ; 
but  surely  he  who  can  contemplate  the  wonders  of 
creation,  and  yet  find  nothing  to  say  to  his  Maker — still 
more,  he  who  can  meditate  on  the  mysteries  of  redeem- 
ing love,  and  behold  the  glory  of  God  in  the  face  of 
Jesus  Christ,  without  feeling  praises  ready  to  burst 
spontaneously  from  his  lips,  has  some  reason  to  fear 


EDWARD   PAYSON.  253 

that  he  possesses  little  of  the  spirit  of  heaven,  and  that 
he  has  never  learned  that  new  song,  which  none  can 
learn  but  those  who  are  redeemed  from  the  earth ;  for, 
with  reference  to  this  subject,  it  may  be  emphatically 
said,  in  the  words  of  inspiration,  '  the  heart  of  the  wise 
teacheth  his  mouth,  and  addeth  learning  to  his  lips.'  " 

Such  public  prayers  as  he  offered  were  singularly 
adapted  to  affect  the  mind  of  an  assembly  and  prepare 
them  for  the  reception  of  religious  truths,  besides  being 
the  appointed  means  of  obtaining  the  influences  of  the 
Holy  Spirit  "to  render  the  word  effectual  to  salvation." 

To  his  ardent  and  persevering  prayers  must  no 
doubt  be  ascribed,  in  a  great  measure,  his  distinguished 
and  almost  uninterrupted  success  ;  and,  next  to  these, 
the  undoubted  sincerity  of  his  belief  in  the  truths 
which  he  inculcated.  His  language,  his  conversation, 
and  whole  deportment,  were  such  as  brought  home 
and  fastened  on  the  minds  of  his  hearers  the  convic- 
tion that  he  believed,  and  therefore  spoke.  So  im- 
portant did  he  regard  such  a  conviction  in  the  attend- 
ants on  the  ministry,  that  he  made  it  the  topic  of  an 
able  address  to  his  clerical  brethren ;  and  indeed,  had 
his  description  of  a  "good  minister  of  Jesus  Christ" 
been  drawn  by  another  hand,  his  familiar  acquaintan- 
ces might  well  have  supposed  that  himself  sat  for  the 
picture.  Though  he  drew  crowds  around  him,  there 
was  nothing  of  stage  effect  either  in  his  personal  ap- 
pearance or  in  his  eloquence — no  imposing  attitudes 
or  gestures — no  extremes  of  intonation — no  affectation 
of  tears.  It  was  simple  nature,  sanctified  by  grace, 
uttering  the  deep  convictions  of  the  heart,  and  plead- 
ing with  fellow-sinners  to  become  reconciled  to  God. 
It  was  the  eloquence  of  truth  spoken  in  love.     The 

M.  P.  22 


254  MEMOIR  or 

words  seemed  to  come  from  his  mouth  encompassed 
by  that  glowing  atmosphere  in  which  they  left  the 
heart,  and  to  brand  their  very  impression  in  every  heart 
on  which  they  fell.  Often  did  his  clear  exhibitions  of 
truth,  and  his  full  and  plain  exposures  of  the  obliquities 
of  men,  prove  the  occasion  of  bitter  and  outrageous 
feelings  in  the  bosoms  of  many  ;  but  rarely,  indeed, 
could  the  individual  be  found  who  ventured  to  express 
a  doubt  of  his  honesty  and  sincerity.  He  was  always 
in  earnest,  and  "commended  himself  to  every  man's 
conscience  in  the  sight  of  God." 


CHAPTER   XIV. 

TTie  pastor  in  action — Methods  of  exciting,  sustaining  and  ex- 
tending a  due  interest  in  religions  concerns — Preaching,  ad- 
ministration of  ordinanccSj  ckvrch  fast,  conference,  inquiry 
meetings. 

Although  most  of  the  preceding  chapter,  if  changed 
from  the  didactic  form  to  that  of  narration,  would,  for 
the  extent  to  which  it  reaches,  present  a  true  history 
of  its  author,  yet  there  are  other  details  from  his  own 
pen,  interspersed  throughout  his  familiar  correspond- 
ence, which  will  be  found  scarcely  less  instructive, 
and  at  the  same  time  exhibit  a  fuller  developement 
of  the  nature,  extent  and  variety  of  his  pastoral  labors. 
We  shall  commence  our  extra(?ts  with  a  letter  written 
in  1812  to  a  young  clergyman,  then  recently  settled 
in  the  ministry,  who  had  sought  his  instruction  and 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  255 

advice  on  tne  subject  of  pastoral  duties.  It  has  al- 
ready been  stated  that  Mr.  Pay  son  was  now  the  sole 
pastor  of  the  church ;  and  it  was  in  this  year  that  thir- 
ty-one of  its  members  were  separated  from  it,  and,  by 
a  distinct  organization,  constituted  the  "  Chapel  Con- 
gregational Church  in  Portland,"  over  which  Mr.  Kel- 
logg was  placed  as  pastor.  The  vacancy  hereby  cre- 
ated was  more  than  filled — forty-eight  persons  being 
added  to  the  church  within  the  same  year.  It  was  dis- 
tinguished beyond  former  years  for  "  the  fruits  of  the 
Spirit." 

"Dear  Brother, 

"  Your  letter  requesting  'information  and  advice' 
has  just  reached  me.  I  rejoice  in  the  circumstances 
that  led  to  such  a  request.  I  rejoice  still  more  that 
you  feel  '  ignorant,  and  inexperienced,  and  inadequate 
to  the  charge  which  has  devolved  upon  you.'  We 
must  feel  so,  or  we  shall  meet  with  little  success. 

"  I  can  however  assure  you,  for  your  encourage- 
ment, that  you  cannot  possibly  be  rr.jre  ignorant  and 
inexperienced  than  I  was  at  the  time  of  my  settle- 
ment. I  knew  just  nothing  at  all  of  my  business  ;  but 
I  knew  a  little,  O  how  little  !  of  my  own  ignorance. 
This  led  me  to  pray  almost  incessantly ;  and,  some- 
how or  other,  I  have,  as  I  trust,  been  preserved  from 
fatal  mistakes,  and  not  suffered  to  ruin  either  myself 
or  my  people,  as  I  sometimes  feared  that  I  should. 
He  who  has  thus  guided  me,  and  thousands  of  others 
equally  foolish,  will,  I  trust,  guide  you.  The  best  ad- 
vice I  can  give  you  is,  to  look  to  Him.  This  I  doubt 
not  you  do ;  but  you  cannot  do  it  too  much.  If  we 
would  do  much  for  God,  we  must  ask  much  of  God  j 


aOb  MEMOIR   OF 

we  must  be  men  of  prayer ;  we  must,  almost  literally, 
pray  without  ceasing.  You  have  doubtless  met  with 
Luther's  remark—"  Three  things  make  a  divine- 
prayer,  meditation,  and  temptation."  My  dear  bro- 
ther, I  cannot  insist  on  this  too  much.  Prayer  is  the 
first  thing,  the  second  thing,  and  the  third  thing  neces 
sary  for  a  minister,  especially  in  seasons  of  revival. 
The  longer  you  live  in  the  ministry  the  more  deeply, 
I  am  persuaded,  you  will  be  convinced  of  this.  Pray 
then,  my  dear  brother,  pray,  pray,  pray.  Read  the 
account  of  Solomon's  choice,  1  Kings,  3  :  5-15.  If, 
like  him,  you  choose  wisdom,  and  pray  for  it,  it  will 
be  yours. 

"  The  next  thing  in  importance  is,  as  I  conceive, 
that  your  church  should  be  excited  to  pray  for  the  in- 
fluences of  the  divine  Spirit ;  and  that  they  should 
frequently  meet  for  this  purpose.  For,  though  private 
prayer  may  be  as  effectual,  it  does  not  so  directly  tend 
to  honor  God  as  that  which  is  more  public.  God  con- 
verts sinners  for  his  own  glory,  and  he  will  have  all 
the  glory  of  their  conversion.  Nothing  tends  more 
directly  to  give  him  the  glory  than  social  prayer.  In 
that  duty  we  explicitly  acknowledge,  not  only  to  him, 
but  to  our  fellow-creatures,  that  nothing  but  the  influ- 
ences of  his  Spirit  can  render  any  means  effectual, 
and  that  we  are  entirely  dependent  for  those  influences 
on  his  sovereign  will.  In  a  word,  we  acknowledge 
that  in  the  conversion  of  sinners  he  is  all,  and  we  are 
nothing. 

"  With  respect  to  those  who  are  awakened,  I  con- 
ceive it  is  our  duty  to  act  as  fellow-workers  with  the 
divine  Spirit ;  to  insist  principally  on  those  truths  ol 
which  he  first  convinces  them  ;  and  to  endeavor,  both 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  257 

by  our  preaching  and  conversation,  to  bring  them  to 
the  same  point  to  which  he  aims  to  bring  them.  This 
point  is  complete  self-despair  and  hope  in  Christ.  The 
former  is  a  pre-requisite  to  the  latter.  I  therefore  aim, 
in  the  first  place,  to  increase  their  convictions  of  sins, 
especially  of  the  great,  damning  sin  of  unbelief.  If  they 
ask,  What  shall  we  do  ?  I  never  dare  give  them  any 
other  answer  than  that  given  by  Christ  and  his  apos- 
tles: 'Repent,  and  believe  the  Gospel.'  I  insist 
much  on  the  character  of  God ;  the  strictness,  extent, 
and  spirituality  of  his  law ;  the  various  artifices,  de- 
ceptions, and  excuses  of  the  heart ;  the  false  hopes  of 
sinners  and  hypocrites ;  the  nature  of  true  and  false 
conversion ;  and  the  great  danger  of  being  deceived. 
I  also  frequently  warn  them  of  the  dreadful  conse- 
quences of  delaying  repentance,  grieving  the  Spirit, 
losing  their  convictions,  or  resting  on  false  hopes,  like 
the  stony-ground  hearers.  I  labor  especially  to  con- 
vince them  that  all  the  difficulties  which  oppose  their 
salvation  lie  in  their  own  hearts — that  Christ  is  will- 
ing to  save  them — but  they  are  unwilling  to  be  saved 
in  his  way,  and  are  therefore  without  excuse.  This 
is  a  very  important  point.  I  have  seen  none  go  back 
who  appeared  to  be  truly  convinced  of  this.  In  addi- 
tion to  this,  I  say  much  of  the  glory,  beauty,  and  suf- 
ficiency of  Christ,  and  of  the  perfect  freeness  of  the 
blessings  which  he  offers,  and  endeavor  to  show  them 
the  horrid  pride,  ingratitude,  &c.  of  neglecting  to  ac- 
cept of  them.  These  are  some  of  the  principal  subjects 
on  which  I  preach  to  inquirers.  You  will  easily  deter- 
mine what  are  the  most  proper  texts  from  which  to 
explain  and  enforce  them. 
"  With  respect  to  our  inquiry  meetings,  I  can  only 
K.  ^  9.2* 


268  MEMOIR   OF 

tell  you  that  we  have  them  once  a  week ;  afternoons 
for  females,  evenings  for  males.  It  is  difficult  to  per- 
suade them  to  converse  as  freely  as  might  be  wished. 
You  will  find,  however,  as  your  experience  increases, 
that  it  is  not  essential  that  they  should  say  much.  A 
single  sentence  will  often  give  you  a  clue  to  their  cha- 
racter and  feelings.  If  you  wish  them  to  converse 
with  you  with  freedom,  you  must  visit  them  at  home. 
Your  greatest  danger  will  be  in  comforting  them  too 
ioon.  All  comfort  is  dangerous  till  they  surrender 
unconditionally  to  the  sovereign  grace  of  God.  It  is 
much  safer  to  err  on  the  other  side." 

The  extract  which  follows  describes  the  origin  of 
a  meeting  that  was  long  continued  and  signally 
blessed : 

"  Nov.  14,  1814. 
"  Three  weeks  since  I  preached  to  the  young,  from 
the  words  of  Christ  when  twelve  years  old — '  I  must 
be  about  my  Father's  business.'  At  the  close  of  the 
sermon  I  invited  all  the  young  men  who  were  fully 
determined  to  engage  immediately  in  their  Father's 
work  to  meet  me  in  the  evening,  and  at  the  same 
time  told  them  I  was  not  confident  that  any  of  them 
would  come.  However,  about  forty  attended.  After 
stating  to  them  the  difficulties  and  temptations  they 
would  meet  with,  and  the  sacrifices  they  must  make 
in  a  religious  course,  I  advised  them  to  consider  of  it 
a  fortnight ;  and,  if  they  still  resolved  to  persevere,  to 
meet  me  again.  About  thirty  came  the  second  even- 
ing ;  and,  though  I  cannot  calculate  upon  all,  or  even 
the  major  part  of  them,  becoming  Christians,  yet  I 
hope  some  of  them  will." 


(<!i 


EDWARD   PAYSON.  259 

Two  or  three  times  during  his  ministry  he  adopted 
what  would  be  generally  regarded  as  bold  measures  j 
and  they  would  have  been  absolutely  rash  and  inju- 
rious, had  th6y  not  originated  in  a  sincere  and  glowing 
zeal  for  God  and  the  eternal  Avelfare  of  men.  It  would 
be  hazardous  for  another  to  imitate  him  herein,  without 
some  portion  of  his  spirit.  Yet  who,  that  estimates 
the  worth  of  the  soul,  will  dare  to  censure  his  conduct, 
or  say  that  the  importance  of  the  object  was  not  at  least 
commensurate  with  his  zeal  ? 

•'  Feh.  21,  1815. 
"  We  have  a  great  revival  commencing.  We  have 
been  expecting  it  some  time  ;  and  a  few  weeks  since, 
at  the  close  of  a  suitable  sermon,  I  informed  the  con- 
gregation that  I  believed  God  was  about  to  bless  us, 
and  told  them  that  the  quarterly  fast  of  the  church  was 
at  hand,  and  that,  if  they  would  consent  to  unite  with 
the  church  in  the  fast,  we  would  meet  in  the  meeting- 
house, instead  of  the  conference-room,  where  we  usu- 
ally assemble  on  such  occasions.  At  the  same  time 
I  invited  those  who  were  willing  to  meet  the  church, 
to  signify  it  by  rising.  About  two-thirds  of  the  con- 
gregation instantly  rose.  It  was  a  most  solemn  scene. 
The  church,  to  whom  the  measure  was  altogether  un- 
expected, were  almost  overwhelmed  with  various  emo- 
tions, and  scarcely  knew  whether  to  be  glad  or  sorry, 
to  hope  or  fear.  You  may  well  suppose  that  the  inter- 
val between  the  Sabbath  and  the  fast  was  a  trying 
season  to  me.  I  felt  that  I  had  completely  committed 
myself— that  my  all  was  at  stake — that,  if  a  blessing 
did  not  attend  the  measure,  every  mouth  would  be  open 
to  condemn  it ;  and  it  seemed  as  if  I  could  hardly  sur 


260  MEMOIR   OF 

vive  a  disappointment.  I  should  not  have  taken  such 
a  step,  had  I  not  believed  I  had  sufficient  reason  for 
trusting  that  God  would  bear  me  out  in  it :  and  I  thought 
if  he  did  not  bear  me  out,  I  never  should  again  know 
what  to  expect — never  should  feel  confidence  to  pray. 
I  expected  severe  trials,  but  had  few  fears  of  the  event. 
The  trials  came,  but  they  did  not  come  in  the  way  that 
I  expected,  and  therefore  I  was  surprised  and  overcome 
by  them.  The  day  of  the  fast  was  the  most  dreadful 
day  of  my  life — the  day  in  which  I  had  most  dreadful 
proofs  of  more  than  diabolical  depravity  of  heart.  The 
meeting-house  was  full,  but  things  did  not  go  on  in  the 
manner  I  had  hoped  and  expected.  I  thought  all  was 
lost ;  and  I  now  wonder  that  I  lived  through  it — that 
a  broken  heart,  as  Mr.  Newton  says  disappointed  pride 
and  madness  are  called,  was  not  the  consequence. 
For  some  days  I  saw  and  heard  nothing  encouraging, 
and  my  distress  was  unabated  ;  but  at  the  next  inquiry 
meeting  I  found  more  than  sixty  inquirers.  This  num- 
ber, within  a  week,  was  considerably  increased,  and 
eight  or  ten  have  obtained  comfort.  The  prospect  is 
now  more  encouraging  than  it  has  been  since  my  set- 
tlement." 

Below  is  an  incidental  mention  of  the  multiplicity 
of  his  labors,  from  which  may  be  inferred  the  despatch 
with  which  he  habitually  executed  his  appropriate 
work: 

"  May  21,  1816. 

"  My  avocations  were  never  so  numerous.     I  have 

two  sermons  which  I  wish,  if  possible,  to  prepare  for 

the  press,  but  fear  I  never  shall  find  time.     I  have  also 

three  ordination  sermons  to  preach  within  two  months, 


EDWARD   PAY30N.  261 

sermons  before  two  missionary  societies  within  the 
same  time,  and  on  the  second  Sabbath  in  July  I  have 
an  engagement  to  preach  in  Portsmouth,  before  the 
managers  of  the  Female  Asylum.  Besides  this,  I 
preach  four  sermons  and  attend  two  inquiry  meetings 
weekly,  &c.  &c.  Judge  then  whether  I  am  not  worn 
out,  and  whether  I  do  not  need  your  prayers  more  than 
ever.  As  to  a  revival,  my  wishes  for  it  are  not,  can- 
not be  too  strong,  if  they  are  disinterested,  and  not 
selfish.  Though  I  am  wearing  myself  out,  it  is,  I  some- 
times fear,  rather  in  the  service  of  self  than  in  the  ser- 
vice of  God  ;  and  this  reflection  imbitters  every  thing 
I  do.  It  would  be  heaven  to  labor  for  God,  but  it  is 
misery  to  labor  for  one's  self.  As  to  the  slang  you 
heard  about  a  revelation,  I  need  not  tell  you  that  there 
is  no  truth  in  it.  However,  I  hope  the  Lord  has  some 
people  yet  to  be  gathered  in  here.  We  have  admitted 
thirty-three  since  the  year  came  in,  and  nine  stand 
propounded ;  the  number  of  inquirers  about  one  hun- 
dred, and  slowly  increasing." 

''April  13,  1820. 
"We  have  some  encouraging  appearances,  as  we 
have  often  had  before,  but  nothing  decisive.  Last 
Sabbath  I  invited  the  male  part  of  the  congregation 
*  who  were  willing  to  be  considered  inquirers  after  re- 
ligion, to  meet  me  in  the  evening.  Between  thirty 
and  forty  attended,  but  I  fear  that  very  few  of  them  are 
deeply  impressed.  We  have  about  the  same  number 
of  females  who  are  in  a  similar  state  ;  and  it  seems, 
as  it  has  for  a  long  time,  that  if  God  would  work  a  lit- 
tle more  powerfully,  there  would  be  a  great  revival. 
But  I  desire  to  wait." 


262  MEMOIR   OP 


'  August  6,  1821. 

"  As  to  my  desires  for  a  revival,  I  have  not,  and ! 
never  had  the  least  doubt  that  they  are  exceedingly 
corrupt  and  sinful.  A  thousand  wrong  motives  have 
conspired  to  excite  them.  Still  I  do  not  believe  that 
ray  desires  were  ever  half  so  strong  as  they  ought  to 
be  ;  nor  do  I  see  how  a  minister  can  help  being  in  a 
'  constant  fever '  in  such  a  town  as  this,  where  his 
Master  is  dishonored  and  souls  are  destroyed  in  so 
many  ways.  You  can  scarcely  conceive  how  many 
things  occur,  almost  daily,  to  distress  and  crush  me 
All  these  are  nothing  when  my  Master  is  with  me  - 
but  when  he  is  absent,  I  am  of  all  men  most  mise- 
rable.    But  now  he  is  with  me,  and  I  am  happy. 

"  We  have  just  set  up  a  meeting  on  a  new  plan. 
Notes  to  this  effect  are  put  into  a  box  at  the  door  :— 
'  A  member  of  this  church  desires  prayers  for  the  con- 
version of  a  husband,  a  child,  a  parent,'  &c.  as  the 
case  may  be.  These  notes  are  thtn  read,  and  pray- 
ers are  offered.  We  have  had  but  one  meeting ;  the 
evening  was  rainy,  but  nearly  forty  notes  were  given 
in,  and  it  was  the  most  solemn  meeting  we  have  had 
for  a  long  time.  Among  the  notes  were  two  from 
persons  who  think  they  were  deceived  when  they 
made  a  profession  of  religion,  desiring  prayers  that 
they  may  be  truly  converted.  The  church  has  also  * 
had  a  day  of  thanksgiving  lately,  to  acknowledge 
what  God  has  done  for  us,  and  it  was  a  comfortable 
season.  These  things  give  me  some  encouragement; 
but  we  have  been  so  often  disappointed,  that  I  scarcely 
dare  to  hope." 

A  letter  to  a  young  clergyman,  written  soon  after 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  263 

the  preceding  extract,  contains  a  still  more  complete 
sketch  of  his  labors  at  this  time.  It  has  been  exten- 
sively copied  by  the  religious  periodicals  of  the  coun- 
try, and  by  one  has  been  objected  to,  as  exalting  hu- 
man efforts  in  place  of  the  grace  of  God.  If  his  lan- 
guage is  susceptible  of  such  a  construction,  it  most 
unhappily  misrepresents  his  judgment  and  his  heart. 
For,  though  he  was  "abundant  in  labors,"  no  man 
ever  ascribed  less  efficiency  to  means,  or  felt  more 
entirely  his  exclusive  dependence  upon  the  Holy 
Spirit. 

"  Portland,  Aug.  17,  1821. 
"  My  dear  Brother, 

"  I  have  just  received  your  kind  letter,  and  hope  it 
has  done  me  some  good.     I  thank  you  for  it,  though 
the  perusal  of  it  has  given  me  much  pain.     It  is  evi- 
dent that  you  think  far  more  favorably  of  me  than  I 
deserve  ;  and  your  applying  to  me  for  advice  shames 
and  mortifies  me  exceedingly.     But  I  dare  not  say 
what  I  feel  on  this  subject,  lest  you  should  think  me 
humble,  which  is  far  enough  from  being  the  case. 
Besides,  you  wish  me  to  write  respecting  myself  and 
my  labors,  and  this  is  the  very  subject  on  which  I  am 
most  unwilling  to  write,  because  I  find  it  most  dan- 
\  gerous.     It  afi'ords   an  opportunity  for  gratifying  an 
|;  accursed  spirit  of  self-seeking,  which  has  ever  been 
»  my  bane  and  torment,  and  which  insinuates  itself  into 
J  every  thing  I  say  or  do.     I  know  not  that  I  have  ever 
i  spoken  of  myself  without  furnishing  cause  for  sorrow 
[  and  shame.     How,  then,  can  I  write  as  you  request 
me  to  do  ?  or  what  can  I  say  that  will  be  of  any  ser- 
vice to  you  ?    But  you  will  reply  that  God  can  bless 


264  MEMOIR   OP 

the  feeblest  means.  True  ;  and  therefore  I  will  write, 
though  I  foresee  that  1  shall  smart  for  it. 

You  ask  for  a  general  view  of  my  pastoral  labors, 
method  of  preaching,  &c.  &c.  Since  the  failure  of 
my  health,  I  preach  but  three  sermons  in  a  week — 
two  on  the  Sabbath,  and  one  on  Thursday  evening. 
On  that  evening  and  Sabbath  morning  I  preach  with- 
out notes,  but  generally  form  a  skeleton  of  my  sermon. 
I  should  like  to  write  more,  but  my  health  will  not 
permit ;  and  I  find  that  when  any  good  is  done,  it  is 
my  extempore  sermons  which  do  it.  I  am  afraid  of 
producing  a  faith  which  stands  not  in  the  power  of 
God,  but  in  the  wisdom  of  men,  and  therefore  make 
as  little  use  as  possible  of  human  arguments,  but  con- 
fine myself  to  a  plain,  simple  exhibition  of  divine 
truth.  The  sword  of  the  Spirit  will  not  wound  if  it 
has  a  scabbard  on  it.  I  also  aim  to  preach  the  truths 
of  the  Gospel  in  a  practical  and  experimental,  rather 
than  a  dry  and  speculative  manner.  In  preaching  to 
professing  Christians,  I  endeavor  to  rouse  and  hum- 
ble, rather  than  to  comfort  them  ;  for,  if  they  can  be 
kept  humble,  comfort  will  follow  of  course.  Besides, 
I  do  not  suppose  that  Christians  need  as  much  conso- 
lation now  as  they  did  in  the  primitive  ages,  when  ex- 
posed to  persecution. 

'•  Our  church  is  divided  into  seven  districts  ;  the 
members  of  each  district  meet  for  prayer  and  conver- 
sation once  a  month,  and  the  brethren  residing  in  each 
district  are  a  standing  committee  of  the  church  for 
that  district,  to  supply  the  wants  of  the  poor,  and  bring 
before  the  church,  in  due  form,  any  case  of  discipline 
which  may  occur. — We  have  a  monthly  meeting  of 
all  the  brethren  for   business,  a   church  conference 


EDWARD   PAYSO^^  265 

every  Tuesday  evening,  a  prayer  meeting  on  Friday 
evening,  a  monthly  prayer  meeting  for  the  Sabbath 
schools,  and  the  monthly  union  concert  for  prayer. 
We  have  also  an  inquiry  meeting  for  males,  on  Sab- 
bath evening,  and  for  females,  on  Friday  afternoon. 

"  As  to  method  in  the  division  of  time,  I  have  none  ; 
but  live  altogether  extempore.  This  is  partly  owing  to 
the  wretched  state  of  my  health,  which  depjives  me 
of  at  least  three  days  in  every  week,  and  partly  to  con- 
tinual interruptions  from  visiters,  whom  I  must  see.  I 
knew  not  how  to  bear  this,  till  I  met  with  the  follow- 
ing maxim  of  an  eminent  minister :  '  The  man  who 
10 ants  me  is  the  man  I  want? 

'■'  My  rule,  in  regard  to  visiting,  is  to  visit  as  much 
as  time  and  health  will  permit.  I  make  none  but  pas- 
toral visits.  I  gave  my  people  to  understand,  when  I 
was  settled,  that  they  must  never  invite  me  to  dine  or 
sup  when  they  did  not  wish  to  have  the  conversation 
turn  wholly  on  religious  subjects.  This  has  saved  me 
much  time  and  trouble. 

"  The  books  which  I  have  found  most  useful  to  me 
are  Edwards's  works,  Brainerd's  Life,  Newton's  Let- 
ters, Owen's  Treatise  on  Indwelling  Sin,  Mortification 
of  Sin  in  Believers,  and  the  130th  Psalm,  and  Thomas 
a  Kempis's  Imitation  of  Christ,  translated  by  Payne — 
for  Stanhope's  translation  I  think  not  so  good.  If  you 
have  not  seen  Thomas  a  Kempis,  I  beg  you  to  procure 
it.  Some  things  you  v/ill  not  like  ;  but,  for  spirituality 
and  weanedness  from  the  world,  I  know  of  nothing 
equal  to  it.  Perhaps  I  ought  to  include  in  the  above 
list,  Baxter's  Reformed  Pastor,  and  Saints'  Rest. 

"  It  would  require  a  volume  to  detail  the  experi- 
ments I  have  made,  and  the  means  I  have  used  for  a 
23 


266  MEMOIR    OF 

revival  of  religion ;  and,  after  ii  was  written,  it  would 
not  be  Avorth  reading.  I  will,  however,  just  mention 
what  we  are  doing  now.  We  have  established  a  prayer 
meeting  on  the  following  plan : — Members  of  the 
church,  and  others,  if  they  think  proper,  present  notes 
requesting  prayers  for  the  conversion  of  any  friend  or 
relative  for  whom  they  feel  anxious.  No  names  are 
mentioned.  The  notes  are  placed  in  a  small  box  by 
the  door,  and  afterwards  handed  to  me  to  be  read.  We 
have  had  two  meetings.  They  were  uncommonly  so- 
lemn, and  many  of  the  notes  were  very  affecting.  One 
was,  '■A  female  stranger  desires  your  prayers  for 
her  conversion.'^  Another,  '  One  of  the  congrega- 
tion desires  your  'prayers  for  the  conversion  of  her 
husband  and  herself  Several  were  from  old  profes- 
sors, who  fear  that  they  have  been  deceived ;  and  a 
great  number  from  husbands,  wives,  and  parents,  de- 
siring prayers  for  their  partners,  children,  &c.  When 
we  came  to  spread  all  these  cases  before  God  as  the 
only  Giver  of  good  things,  the  scene  was  awfully  so- 
lemn and  affecting. 

*         +         *         * 

"  I  think  with  you,  that  the  management  of  a  revi- 
val is  a  very  difficult  thing.  It  is,  1  believe,  a  subject 
as  yet  but  very  imperfectly  understood.  At  least,  I 
know  but  very  little  of  it. 

"  I  think  I  can  conceive,  in  some  measure,  of  the  in- 
convenience you  experience  in  consequence  of  the  great 
extent  of  your  congregation.  It  must  be  exceedingly 
difficult  to  collect  your  church  together  as  often  as  you 
would  wish,  and  to  perform  ministerial  duties.  A  mi- 
nister, however,  who  has  but  a  small  people,  is  re- 
quired to  do  all  that  he  can,  and  you  are  required  to 


EDWARD    PAY30N.  267 

do  no  more.  Still  it  is  exceedingly  painful  to  see  many- 
things  which  need  to  be  done,  but  which  we  cannot 
find  time  or  strength  to  do.  My  congregation,  as  well 
as  my  heart,  very  much  resembles  the  garde-n  of  the 
sluggard ;  and,  what  is  worse,  I  find  that  most  of  my 
desires  for  the  melioration  of  both  proceed  either  from 
pride,  or  vanity,  or  indolence.  I  look  at  the  weeds  which 
overspread  my  garden,  and  breathe  out  an  earnest  wish 
that  they  were  eradicated.  But  why  ?  What  prompts 
the  wish  ?  It  may  be  that  I  may  walk  out  and  say  to 
myself,  '  In  what  fine  order  is  my  garden  kept !'  This 
is  pride.  Or  it  may  be  that  my  neighbors  may  look 
over  the  wall  and  say,  '  How  finely  your  garden  flou- 
rishes !'  This  is  vanity.  Or  I  may  wish  for  the  de- 
struction of  the  weeds  because  I  am  weary  of  pulling 
them  up.  This  is  indolence.  Yet  from  such  sources,  I 
fear,  do  most  of  my  desires  for  personal  holiness  and 
for  the  progress  of  religion  among  my  people  proceed. 
I  hope  and  trust  it  is  otherwise  with  you. 

"  As  I  write  with  perfect  freedom,  I  will  take  the 
liberty  to  mention  one  thing  more,  which,  if  I  always 
attended  to  it,  would,  I  believe,  be  highly  beneficial. 
The  disciples,  we  read,  '  returned  to  Jesus,  and  told 
him  all  things,  both  what  they  had  done  and  what 
they  had  taught.'  I  think  that  if  we  would,  every  even- 
ing, come  to  our  Master's  feet  and  tell  him  where  we 
have  been,  what  we  have  done,  what  we  have  said, 
and  what  were  the  motives  by  which  we  have  been 
actuated,  it  would  have  a  salutary  effect  upon  our 
whole  conduct.  While  reading  over  each  day's  page 
of  life  with  the  consciousness  that  He  was  reading  it 
with  us,  we  should  detect  many  errors  and  defects 
which  would  otherwise  pass  unnoticed.  Pardon  this 
hint.  I  trust  you  do  not  need  it. 


268  MEMOIR   OP 

"  I  have  written  a  long  letter,  and  yet,  I  fear,  said 
nothing  which  will  be  of  the  smallest  service  to  you. 
But  you  must,  as  our  kind  Master  does,  take  the  will 
for  the  deed.  May  he  till  you  with  the  Holy  Ghost 
and  with  faith,  and  make  you  instrumental  of  adding 
much  people  to  the  Lord.  So  prays  your  sincere 
friend." 

He  was  particularly  observant  of  current  events, 
and  careful  to  make  them  all  subservient  to  the  great 
purposes  of  his  ministry.  By  these  his  exhortations 
were  often  enforced  ;  and  hence  some  of  the  severest 
reproofs  which  he  administered  were  drawn.  At  the 
close  of  public  worship,  one  Sabbath,  he  gave  notice 
that  the  different  churches  in  the  town  would  observe 
the  following  Wednesday  as  a  day  of  fasting  and 
prayer  for  divine  influences :  and  after  mentioning 
that  religious  exercises  would  be  attended  in  the  morn- 
ing, afternoon,  and  evening,  he  observed :  "  Should 
any  be  disposed  to  ask,  with  the  Pharisees  of  old, '  To 
what  purpose  is  this  waste  of  time  V  I  would  remind 
them  of  the  attention  lately  bestowed  on  an  earthly 
benefactor.  One  united,  earnest  request  was  made  to 
him  that  he  would  visit  this  country,  for  which,  in 
times  of  trial,  he  had  sacrificed  ease  and  domestic 
comfort,  and  hazarded  his  life  and  treasure.  He  ac- 
ceded to  the  invitation  of  a  grateful  people ;  he  has 
visited  you.  You  spared  neither  time  nor  expense  to 
give  him  an  honorable  reception.  And  have  you  not, 
my  friends,  a  Heavenly  Benefactor,  from  whom  you 
receive  every  good  and  perfect  gift?  a  Savior,  who 
has  given  his  life  to  redeem  you  from  everlasting  bon- 
dage and  misery  ?  When  will  one  hearty,  united 
request  arise  from  this  place,  that  our  God  and  Re- 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  269 

deeraer  will  visit  us  1  And  should  he  come,  would 
he  be  welcomed  as  was  the  benefactor  just  alluded  to? 
It  is  true  that,  in  one  sense,  God  is  ever  present ;  but 
he  can  be  with  us  in  such  a  manner  that  his  presence 
will  he  felt,  and  the  effects  of  it  made  visible.  And 
the  effects  of  his  absence,  too,  may  be  seen,  while  no 
cheering  rays  of  his  life-giving  Spirit  are  imparted. 
And  shall  we  grudge  a  day,  to  be  devoted  to  special 
entreaty  that  he  would  come  in  the  chariot  of  his  sal- 
vation, from  conquering  to  conquer?  that  he  would 
make  us  glad  with  the  light  of  his  countenance  ?  Was 
one  day  too  short  for  all  the  acknowledgments  which 
we  were  desirous  to  make  to  our  nation's  friend  ?  and 
is  it  too  long  to  be  devoted  to  him  who  is  the  Re- 
deemer of  the  world,  from  whom  cometh  our  salva- 
tion, and  whose  favor  is  immortal  life  ?" 

Among  his  various  methods  of  drawing  attention  to 
the  subject  of  religion,  and  impressing  the  mind  with 
its  importance,  the  following  is,  perhaps,  worthy  of 
preservation,  for  the  practical  hint  which  it  conveys  : 

"  Once,  in  the  course  of  my  ministry,  I  made  an 
analysis  of  all  the  sermons  which  I  had  preached  to 
my  people  for  six  months,  and  embodied  it  in  one  ser- 
mon and  preached  it  to  them.  They  were  astonished, 
and  I  was  astonished,  at  the  amount  of  truth  which 
had  been  presented  to  them,  and,  to  human  appear- 
ance, with  very  little  effect."  How  descriptive  of  his 
constant  solicitude,  and  of  the  various  exertions  to 
which  it  prompted  him,  are  the  lines  of  the  poet: 

"  And  as  a  bird  each  fond  endearment  tries 

"  To  tempt  its  new-fledged  offspring  to  the  skies, 

"  He  tried  each  art,  reproved  each  dull  delay,  ^ 

"  Allured  to  brighter  worlds,  and  led  the  way." 

M.  P.  23* 


270  MEMOIR    OF 

It  would  be  matter  for  lamentation  if  the  preceding 
statements  of  insulated  facts  should  be  so  interpreted 
as  to  convey  to  strangers  an  impression  altogether  er- 
roneous respecting  Dr.  Payson's  general  manner  of 
exercising  the  ministry.  He  was  a  stanch  friend  to 
the  "  good  old  way,"  and  generally  adhered  to  it  in 
the  discharge  of  ministerial  duties :  his  deviations  were 
circumstantial.  He  differed  from  others  in  the  zeal 
and  earnestness  with  which  he  prosecuted  the  ordinary 
routine  of  clerical  services,  more  than  in  the  novelty 
and  extravagance  of  his  measures.  The  new  aspect 
which  his  congregation  assumed,  in  consequence  of 
the  blessing  of  God  upon  his  faithful  and  zealous  la- 
bors, required  meetings  and  exercises  of  a  specific  cha- 
racter, and,  of  course,  some  addition  to  their  number. 
To  render  these  in  the  highest  degree  subservient  to 
the  spiritual  good  of  his  charge  was  his  uniform  aim, 
in  the  pursuit  of  which  he  made  the  most  felicitous 
use  of  every  providential  event  and  every  noticeable 
fact  in  the  circumstances  of  his  people,  as  a  means  of 
enforcing  truths  and  duties  of  immediate  and  indispen- 
sable importance.  It  should  be  remembered,  too,  that 
he  was  the  established  pastor,  that  he  stood  high  in 
the  affections  and  confidence  of  his  people,  who  had 
witnessed  the  rapid  growth  of  his  extraordinary  piety 
for  a  period  of  eight  or  ten  years,  without  having  dis- 
covered a  single  circumstance  to  discredit  its  reality 
or  strength.  They  knew  him  to  be  a  man  of  great  sim- 
plicity of  purpose  ;  and  whatever  might  be  their  judg- 
ment of  particular  acts,  they  were  sure  he  watched  for 
their  souls  as  one  that  must  give  account ;  and  was 
not  accustomed  to  "  say  a  word  to  sinners,  except  when 
he  had  a  broken  heart  himself." 


EDWARD    PAY30N.  271 

The  feelings  which  prompted  and  sustained  his 
restless  activity  for  the  glory  of  God  and  the  salvation 
of  men  very  frequently  disclose  themselves  in  his 
correspondence  and  diary : 

"December  26,  1821. 

"  I  do  not  think  yoiA  understand  my  feelings  about 
a  revival.  Unless  I  am  very  much  deceived,  I  have 
no  controversy  with  God  respecting  it.  But  ought  a 
minister  to  feel  easy  wltile  his  people  are  perishing 
and  Christians  are  dishonoring  their  Master?  Did 
not  Paul  feel  great  heaviness  and  continual  sorrow  of 
heart  for  his  countrymen  ?  All  the  joy  and  gratitude 
he  felt  in  view  of  what  God  had  done  for  him  and  by 
him  could  not  remove  that  sorrow.  And  the  prophet 
would  weep  day  and  night  for  the  daughter  of  his 
people.  Instead  of  feeling  less,  it  seems  to  me  that  I 
ought  to  feel  more,  and  to  have  no  rest.  But  I  do  not 
murmur  at  God's  dealings.  I  only  wonder  that  he 
-ever  did  any  thing  for  me  or  by  me  ;  and  that  he  has 
not,  long  since,  cast  me  out  of  his  vineyard.  As  to 
the  bed-ridden  female  you  mention,  I  see  nothing  very 
wonderful  in  her  rejoicing  and  gratitude.  Well  may 
she  rejoice  and  be  grateful  when  she  is  filled  full  of 
divine  consolation.  She  has  outward  trials,  it  is  true; 
but  what  are  they  when  Christ  is  present?  Who 
wants  candles  when  he  has  the  sun?  Give  me  her 
consolations  and  I  will  sing  as  loud  as  she  does.  And 
let  her  have  my  showers  of  fiery  darts  and  my  other 
trials,  and,  unless  I  am  much  mistaken,  she  will  groan 
as  much  as  I  do.  I  have  seen  very  young  Christians 
terribly  afflicted  by  bodily  pain  and  sickness  for  months 
together,  and  all  the  tiraefullof  joy  and  thankfulness; 


272  MEMOIR   OF 

and  I  have  seen  the  same  persons  afterwards,  when 
they  were  surrounded  by  temporal  mercies,  show  very 
little  of  either.  Things  seem  to  be  a  little  on  the  mend- 
ing hand ;  and  the  church  are  again  beginning  to  hope 
for  a  revival.  Last  Sabbath  was  an  uncommonly  so- 
lemn day." 

''August  20,  1823. 

"It  has  been,  and  still  is,  a  season  of  spiritual  dead- 
ness  among  us.  I  have  preached  so  plainly,  especially 
to  the  church,  that  1  feared  they  would  not  bear  it, 
and  that  we  should  come  to  an  open  rupture.  How- 
ever, they  have  borne  it  very  well,  and  there  seems 
now  to  be  more  of  a  disposition  among  them  to  make 
exertion ;  but  it  is  impossible  to  say  what  the  result 
will  be. 

"  If  you  have  not  written  to lately,  it  would  be 

well  to  cheer  him  with  a  letter.  Poor  man!  he  seems 
to  be  just  entering  on  Newton's  second  stage,  the  cha- 
racteristic of  which,  you  recollect,  is  confiict.  How- 
ever, I  trust  he  will  be  carried  safely  through.  I  wish, 
with  all  my  heart,  that  Satan  would  fight  against  the 
peace  of  some  of  our  church  more  than  he  does  ;  but 
he  is  too  cunning  to  do  that.  He  sees  that  they  are 
slumbering,  and  he  will  take  care  not  to  wake  them. 
You  can  scarcely  form  an  idea  how  soporific  the  air  of 
a  sea-port  is,  nor  of  the  irresistible  force  with  which 
the  world  assails  Christians  in  such  a  place  as  this. 
The  moment  they  step  out  of  doors  it  rushes  in  at 
their  eyes  and  ears,  in  ten  thousand  shapes ;  so  that, 
unless  their  hearts  are  pre-occupied  with  better  things, 
they  are  filled  with  it  in  a  moment.  By  turns  I 
expostulate,  and  plead,  and  warn,  and  threaten,  and 
weep,  and  pray,  and  sometimes  almost  scold,  but  all 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  273 

in  vain.  The  world  drags  away  its  victims,  and  laughs 
ray  feeble  efforts  to  scorn." 

"  December  5,  1823. 
"A  few  weeks  since  I  set  up  a  Bible  class  for  young 
persons  over  fourteen  years  of  age.  About  two  hun- 
dred and  fifty  attend,  and  some  of  them  appear  inte- 
rested ;  but  none  are  awakened  as  yet.  However,  God 
must  have  some  chosen  ones  among  the  rising  genera- 
tion, and  he  will,  sooner  or  later,  bring  them  in  ;  but 
I  fear  that  all,  or  nearly  all,  who  have  passed  the  me- 
ridian of  life — T  mean  in  my  congregation — are  given 
over  to  final  hardness  of  heart." 

'■'January  31,  1824. 

"  Yesterday  was  our  quarterly  fast,  and  I  pursued 
a  new  method.  I  first  confessed  my  own  sins  to  the 
church,  asked  their  forgiveness,  and  then  requested 
them  to  unite  with  me  in  praying  that  God  would  for- 
give me,  and  ordain  me  afresh  as  their  pastor.  I  then 
having,  as  I  hope,  cast  the  beam  out  of  my  own  eye, 
proceeded  to  take  the  mote  out  of  the  eye  of  my  breth- 
ren. I  first  called  upon  the  deacons  to  follow  my 
example,  if  they  thought  proper,  by  confessing  their 
sins,  and  appointing  one  of  their  number  to  lead  in 
prayer,  that  they  might  be  forgiven.  A  similar  call 
was  then  made  upon  the  brethren,  and,  after  that,  upon 
the  sisters,  for  whom  I  acted  as  mouth.  A  great  deal 
was  said  which  I  cannot  write,  but  for  want  of  which 
you  will  not  fully  understand  our  method  of  proceed- 
ing, nor  all  the  reasons  of  it.  It  must  suffice  to  say, 
that  we  attempted  to  obey,  on  a  large  scale,  the  ex- 
hortation of  James — '  Confess  your  faults  one  to  ano- 


274  MEMOIR   OF 

ther,  and  pray  for  one  another,  that  ye  may  be  healed.' 
I  cannot  but  hope  that  it  Avill  prove  to  have  been  a 
profitable  season,  and  that  a  blessing  will  follow  it." 

"  May  2,  1825. 

"I  returned  last  week  on  Wednesday,  preached  a 
preparatory  lecture  on  Thursday,  attended  the  church 
quarterly  fast  on  Friday,  prepared  for  the  Sabbath  on 
Saturday,  and  yesterday  preached  twice  and  adminis- 
tered the  Lord's  supper.  The  consequence  is  that  I 
am  only  half  alive  this  morning.  L.  and  a  young  lady 
who  boards  with  us  were  very  much  affected  by  the 
address  to  youth  at  the  table.  They  wept  all  the  last 
evening,  and  appeared  very  solemn  this  morning ;  but 
L.  has  so  often  been  affected  in  a  similar  manner  that 
I  dare  not  promise  myself  much  from  present  appear- 
ances. It  is,  however,  evident  that  the  Holy  Spirit  is 
constantly  striving  with  her ;  she  is  never  perfectly  at 
ease  ;  and  I  cannot  but  hope  she  will,  ere  long,  become 
a  subject  of  grace. 

"  In  a  religious  view,  things  remain  with  us  very 
much  as  they  have  been,  though  I  think  the  church, 
or  some  of  them  at  least,  are  becoming  more  alive  than 
they  were. — I  have  lately  had  some  delightful  medita- 
tions on  the  priesthood  of  Christ.  I  was  led  to  them 
by  thinking  how  a  penitent  Israelite  must  have  regard- 
ed his  high  priest.  We  may  consider  such  a  man  as 
saying — 'I  am  a  miserable,  polluted  sinner;  I  cannot 
enter  the  holy  place  where  God  dwells,  but  am  kepi 
at  a  distance.  I  cannot  burn  incense  acceptably,  cannot 
be  permitted  even  to  offer  my  own  sacrifice.  But  I  have 
a  high  priest,  appointed  and  consecrated  by  God,  who 
is  permitted  to  approach  him  on  my  behalf.  He  carries 


EDWARD    PAYSOX.  275 

"nay  name,  or  the  name  of  ray  tribe  on  his  breast-plate. 
He  offers  sacrifice  for  me  ;  he  burns  incense  for  me  ; 
he  enters  the  holy  place  and  sprinkles  atoning  blood 
for  me.  In  him  I  am  accepted,  and  in  him  will  I  glory. 
Take  away  my  high  priest,  and  you  take  away  my  all ; 
but  while  I  have  him,  while  he  is  accepted  in  my  be- 
half, I  Avill  exult  and  rejoice.'  And  with  how  much 
more  reason  may  the  Christian  triumph  and  glory  in 
his  great  High  Priest,  and  rejoice  that  he  is  'accepted 
in  the  Beloved.'  I  do  not  mention  these  thoughts  as 
any  thing  new,  but  as  thoughts  which  have  been  pe- 
t^uliarly  sweet  and  precious  to  me  of  late.  Yet,  alas  ! 
I  am  continually  seeking  to  be  my  own  high  priest,  to 
find  something  in  myself  for  the  sake  of  which  I  may 
be  accepted,  at  least  in  part.  How  happy  are  you,  my 
dear  mother,  to  have  gotten  almost  through  this  weari- 
some, terrible  conflict!  Your  trials  and  sufferings  are  al- 
most ended,  and  the  blessed  fruit  of  them  is  all  to  come." 
These  extracts  furnish  specimens  of  his  zeal,  and 
his  various  methods  of  exerting  himself  for  the  promo- 
tion of  religion.  His  labors  were  never  suspended,  un- 
less physical  debility  rendered  the  prosecution  of  them 
impossible.  His  religion  was  not  intermittent.  With 
him  time  was  a  precious  talent,  and  he  "  paid  no  mo- 
ment but  in  purchase  of  its  worth."  He  would  not 
willingly  suffer  an  hour  to  pass  away  without  some 
effort  for  the  recovery  of  lost  sinners.  Whatever  were 
the  declension  of  those  around  him,  his  ardor  in  reli- 
gion and  his  exertions  for  its  advancement  suffered  no 
visible  abatement.  On  the  contrary,  the  darkest  times 
were  those  in  which  he  was  eminently  "jealous  for 
the  Lord  of  hosts,"  a  living  Avitness  to  the  power  of 
divine  grace,  and  a  living  reproof  to  such  as  "  had  gone 


276  "  MEMOIR   OF 

away  backward."  When  he  saw  his  fellow-men  in- 
different to  their  own  salvation — when  he  saw  "  reign- 
ing crime  and  hastening  death" — it  was  "a  spectacle 
which  made"  his  heart  ache  and  "his  eyes  weep." 
He  expostulated,  he  warned,  he  entreated,  he  mourned 
in  secret  places,  he  "ran  between  the  dead  and  the 
living,"  and  earnestly  interceded  Avith  God  to  interpose 
for  their  salvation.  He  could  "  not  hold  his  peace,  nor 
take  rest,"  v/hen  Zion  was  in  affliction,  and  "  none  com- 
ing to  the  solemn  feast."  As  it  respects  the  progress  of 
the  Redeemer's  cause,  he  seemed  always  to  glow  with 
the  spirit  and  feelings  which  most  are  accustomed  to 
regard  as  a  privilege  peculiar  to  a  time  of  general  re- 
vival. These  feelings  must  have  been  subject  to  some 
inequalities  even  in  him;  but  they  seem  never  to  have 
sunk  to  a  point  which  was  not  above  the  standard  of 
attainment  with  ordinary  men  in  their  most  favored 
seasons.  He  was,  indeed,  often  discouraged  with  re 
spect  to  himself  and  his  own  personal  prospects  ;  but, 
if  he  ever  suffered  any  declension  in  zeal  for  the  glory 
of  God  in  the  salvation  of  others,  it  was  of  such  tem- 
porary duration  as  to  produce  no  perceptible  effect  on 
his  use  of  means.  If  there  was  a  time,  during  his 
whole  ministry,  when  he  was  not  ardently  desirous, 
and,  to  the  extent  of  his  ability,  actively  laborious  for 
the  conversion  of  sinners,  the  fact  was  not  observable 
by  his  people,  nor  even  by  his  most  intimate  friends. 
He  loved  his  work :  when  not  exhausted  by  fatigue, 
or  depressed  by  illness,  he  was  specially  fond  of  the 
exercise  of  preaching — so  much  so,  that  he  considered 
it  no  favor  for  a  way-faring  brother  to  offer  to  supply 
his  place  gratuitously  on  a  Sabbath.  He  felt,  to  use 
his   own  comparison,  about  as  much  obligation  for 


EDWARD   PAYSON.  277 

such  an  offer,  as  lie  should  to  a  man  for  proposing  to 
eat  up  ?  good  dinner  prepared  for  himself  when  he 
was  half-starved.  In  preparing  for  the  pulpit,  it  was 
his  invariable  object  to  introduce  so  much  of  the  grand 
truths  of  the  Gospel  into  every  discourse,  that  a  person 
who  had  never  heard  a  sermon  before,  and  should  ne- 
ver hear  another,  might  learn  from  it  what  was  essen- 
tial to  salvation.  While  his  sermons  generally  bore 
this  uniform  feature,  they  were  endlessly  various  in 
other  respects.  He  seldom  selected  a  text  without 
reference  to  the  known  circumstances  of  his  church 
and  congregation ;  and  so  wakeful  and  diligent  was 
he  "  to  knoAV  the  state  of  his  flock,"  that  he  scarcely 
ever  failed  in  the  adaptation  of  his  subject.  So  dex- 
terously did  he  wield  the  sword  of  the  Spirit,  and  so 
fully  and  accurately  discern  and  expose  "  the  thoughts 
and  intents  o^  the  heart,"  that,  to  this  day,  there  are 
those  who  believe  that  their  particular  sins  had  been 
reported  to  him,  and  that  his  discourses  were  adapted 
to  their  own  individual  case. 

But,  among  ail  his  services  in  the  house  of  God, 
none,  perhaps,  were  more  signally  blessed  than  his 
exercises  at  the  communion-table.  Uniformly,  this 
ordinance  was,  in  a  high  degree,  refreshing  to  his 
own  spirit.  Hither  he  delighted  to  come  and  quench 
his  thirst  for  the  water  of  life.  Here  he  met  the  Sa- 
vior, "  who  bore  our  sins  in  his  own  body  on  the  tree," 
and  who,  "  having  himself  suffered,  being  tempted, 
knoweth  how  to  succor  them  that  are  tempted."  To 
him  the  crucified  Son  of  God  had  incomparable  at- 
tractions. He  saw  in  Christ  that  kind,  sympathizing, 
all-pov%^erful  High  Priest  who  was  suited  to  the  wants 
of  which  he  felt  so  deeply  conscious.    And  he  always 

M.  p.  24 


278  MEMOIR   OF 

came  to  this  sacred  feast  with  a  soul  full  of  tender- 
ness, and  dwelt  on  the  love  of  a  suffering  Savior  with 
a  pathos  that  was  irresistible.  Here,  in  an  unrivalled 
degree,  his  "heart  indited  good  matter,  and  his  tongue 
was  the  pen  of  a  ready  writer."  "Jesus  Christ  was, 
indeed,  set  forth  crucified  before  the  eyes"  of  the  ad- 
miring communicants.  His  person,  attributes,  and 
offices,  as  the  Redeemer  of  our  lost  race  ;  his  marvel- 
lous compassion  in  dying  to  atone  for  our  sins  ;  his 
intercession  at  the  right  hand  of  the  Father ;  the  glo- 
ries and  terrors  of  his  second  coming — were  so  dis- 
tinctly and  affectingly  exhibited,  as  to  excite  the  cor- 
responding emotions  in  all  hearts  which  were  not 
harder  than  the  nether  millstone.  Those  who  could 
sympathize  with  the  administrator,  while  contemplat- 
ing Christ  as  Mediator,  by  whom  we  have  access  to 
God,  and  redemption  through  his  blood,  even  the  for- 
giveness of  our  sins  according  to  the  riches  of  his 
grace,"  felt  that  in  sinning  against  Christ  they  had 
wounded  their  best,  tenderest,  almighty  Friend.  And 
O  how  hateful  was  sin  made  to  appear  !  how  loath- 
some !  how  heartily  was  it  renounced !  how  fervently 
its  future  commission  deprecated  !  and  then  the  re- 
newed and  unreserved  dedication  of  soul  and  body  to 
God,  as  a  living,  holy,  acceptable,  and  reasonable  sa- 
crifice 1  "  How  sweet  and  awful  was  the  place,"  while 
sealing  their  vows,  and  Christ  his  pardons,  Avith  the 
consecrated  symbols  of  his  body  and  blood  !  How 
precious  was  the  communion  of  saints  with  Jesus, 
and  with  one  another! — To  hundreds  have  these  sa- 
cred scenes  been  earnests  of  the  heavenly  inheritance. 
And  the  interest  which  he  gave  to  the  occasion  by  his 
spirituality,  his  knowledge  of  the  heart,  of  the  Savior, 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  279 

and  of  the  mysteries  of  redemption,  exhibited  in  his 
appropriate  and  impressive  appeals,  usually  detained 
a  great  number  who  were  not  communicants ;  and 
what  they  heard  and  witnessed  was  not  unfreqaently 
the  means  of  conviction. 

This,  too,  was  his  chosen  occasion  to  impress  on 
the  young  a  sense  of  their  obligations  to  devote  them- 
selves to  their  God  and  Redeemer ;  and  a  more  suita- 
ble one  could  not  have  been  selected.  There  are 
many  who  will  remember  it  with  everlasting  grati- 
tude. When  it  is  recollected  how  much  there  is  in 
this  scene  to  render  instructions  impressive  on  the 
minds  of  youth,  might  not  ministers  generally  take  a 
valuable  hint  from  his  practice  ? 

The  church  fasts  and  conferences,  Avhen  conducted 
by  the  pastor,  were,  next  to  those  of  the  communion, 
the  most  humble,  melting,  edifying,  and  instructive 
seasons  which  his  highly  favored  flock  enjoyed.  Here 
he  employed  his  faith,  his  imagination,  and  the  vari- 
ous resources  of  his  richly  furnished  mind  to  show 
them  their  actual  condition,  and  urge  them  forw^ard  in 
their  Christian  course.  So  distinctly  and  clearly  could 
he  illustrate  the  different  degrees  of  Christian  attain- 
ment, and  mark  the  different  shades  and  varieties  of 
religious  experience  in  all  its  gradations,  from  the 
babe  to  the  perfect  man  in  Christ  Jesus,  that  it  would 
seem  every  Christian  present  must  have  known  his 
precise  rank.  A  specimen  of  his  manner,  as  near  as 
can  be  recollected,  may  be  thus  stated : 

"  Suppose  professors  of  religion  to  be  ranged  in  dif- 
ferent concentric  circles  around  Christ,  as  their  com- 
mon centre.  Some  value  the  presence  of  their  Savior 
so  highly,  that  they  cannot  bear  to  be  at  any  remove 


280  MEMOIR    OF 

from  him.  Even  their  work  they  will  bring  up,  and  do 
it  in  the  light  of  his  countenance;  and,  while  engaged 
in  it,  will  be  seen  constantly  raising  their  eyes  to  him, 
as  if  fearful  of  losing  one  beam  of  his  light.  Others, 
who,  to  be  sure,  would  not  be  content  to  live  out  of  his 
presence,  are  yet  less  wholly  absorbed  by  it  than  these, 
and  may  be  seen  a  little  farther  off,  engaged  here  and 
there  in  their  various  callings,  their  eyes  generally 
upon  their  work,  but  often  looking  up  for  the  light 
which  they  love.  A  third  class,  beyond  these,  but  yet 
within  the  life-giving  rays,  includes  a  doubtful  multi- 
tude, many  of  whom  are  so  much  engaged  in  their 
worldly  schemes,  that  they  may  be  seen  standing  side- 
ways to  Christ,  looking  mostly  the  other  way,  and 
only  now  and  then  turning  their  faces  towards  the 
light.  And  yet  farther  out,  amongst  the  last  scattered 
rays,  so  distant  that  it  is  often  doubtful  whether  they 
come  at  all  within  their  influence,  is  a  mixed  assem- 
blage of  busy  ones,  some  with  their  backs  wholly  turn- 
ed upon  the  sun,  and  most  of  them  so  careful  and 
troubled  about  their  many  things  as  to  spare  but  little 
time  for  their  Savior. 

"  The  reason  why  the  men  of  the  world  think  so 
little  of  Christ,  is,  they  do  not  look  at  him.  Their 
backs  being  turned  to  the  sun,  they  can  see  only  their 
own  shadows  ;  and  are,  therefore,  wholly  taken  up 
with  themselves.  While  the  true  disciple,  looking 
only  upward,  sees  nothing  but  his  Savior,  and  learns 
to  forget  himself." 

"  The  growth  of  grace  in  the  heart  may  be  compared 
to  the  process  of  polishing  metals.  First,  you  have  a 
dark,  opaque  substance,  neither  possessing  nor  reflect- 
ing light.    Presently,  as  the  polisher  plies  his  work, 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  281 

you  will  see  here  and  there  a  spark  darting  out ;  then 
a  strong  light ;  till,  by  and  by,  it  sends  back  a  perfect 
image  of  the  sun  which  shines  upon  it.  So  the  work 
of  grace,  if  begun  in  our  hearts,  must  be  gradually  and 
continually  going  on  ;  and  it  will  not  be  completed  till 
the  image  of  God  can  be  seen  perfectly  reflected  in  us." 
At  a  church  fast,  in  the  time  of  a  revival,  he  men- 
tioned, as  dangers  to  be  guarded  against,  and  as  causes 
of  the  suspension  of  divine  influences, 

1.  '•  Christians,  in  times  of  refreshing  from  the  pre- 
sence of  the  Lord,  are  apt  to  be  so  much  taken  up  in 
conversing  and  laboring  with  sinners,  that,  from  con- 
cern for  the  souls  of  others,  they  neglect  their  own  spi- 
ritual interests.  This  may  do  very  well  for  a  time,  but 
in  the  end  will  be  productive  of  much  evil.  I  do  not 
mean  to  dissuade  you  from  laboring  for  the  good  of 
others,  but  to  warn  you  to  take  care  of  your  own  souls. 

2.  "  Christians  are  in  danger,  when  a  revival  has 
continued  for  some  time,  of  praying  less  for  its  con- 
tinuance, and  of  being  less  thankful  for  it.  They  seem 
to  take  il  for  granted  that  it  will  go  on  as  a  matter  of 
course ;  their  prayers  grow  less  frequent  and  fervent, 
and  their  gratitude  less  lively,  until  at  length  a  case 
of  conversion,  which  would  at  first  have  electrified 
the  whole  church,  produces  scarcely  any  sensation  at 
all.  Now,  when  this  is  the  case,  a  revival  will  certain- 
ly cease ;  for  God  never  continues  to  bestow  spiritual 
favors  where  they  are  not  felt  to  be  such. 

3.  "  Another  reason  why  revivals  do  not  continue 
longer,  is,  that  there  is  so  much  animal  excitement 
mixed  with  them.  It  is  a  law  of  our  nature,  that  the 
duration  of  merely  animal  feelings  should  be  in  inverse 
proportion  to  their  strength.   These  are  no  part  of  spi- 

M.  p.  24* 


282  MEMOIR    OF 

rituality  and  holiness ;  for  the  more  holy  vre  are,  the 
less  we  shall  have  of  them.  Our  Savior  had  none  of 
these  feelings.  Strive  to  repress  animal  feeling,  and  to 
be  more  purely  spiritual."' 

'•  We  read  that  Nadab  and  Abihu.  on  the  day  of  their 
consecration  to  the  priesthood,  instead  of  taking  holy 
fire  with  which  to  burn  incense,  took  strange,  that  is, 
common  fire,  and  were  punished  by  immediate  death 
for  their  presumption.  To  us  this  may  appear  a  slight 
oflfence.  We  may  think  one  fire  equally  good  with  ano- 
ther. But  our  God  is  a  jealous  God,  and  we  must 
make  our  oSerings  in  the  manner  he  has  commanded, 
and  with  a  right  spirit,  or  they  will  be  an  ofience  in 
his  sight,  and  he  will  not  accept  them." 

Mr.  Payson  was  never  more  happy  than  when  guid- 
ing inquirers  to  •"  the  Lamb  of  God,  who  taketh  away 
the  sins  of  the  world.*'  Some  of  the  '"  similitudes  "  by 
which  he  endeavored  to  illustrate  the  nature  of  expe- 
rimental religion,  and  assist  inquirers  in  judging  of 
the  character  of  their  own  exercises,  have  been  pre- 
served in  the  meraor)'  of  several  of  his  later  converts, 
and  will  not  be  unwelcome  to  any  class  of  readers. 
They  do  not  profess  to  be  reported  in  precisely  his 
language,  and  on  this  account  due  allowance  must 
be  made.  Much  of  their  original  force  and  apposite- 
ness  is  doubtless  lost. 

"  Suppose  a  number  of  persons  standing  by  a  river's 
side.  They  are  invited  to  drink  of  its  waters,  but  they 
are  not  thirsty,  and  therefore  do  not  desire  them.  At 
length  their  thirst  is  excited,  and  they  look  round 
for  a  vessel  with  which  to  take  up  some  water.  But 
their  vessels  are  all  filled  with  some  worthless  thing, 
which  they  are  as  yet  unwilling  to  part  with.   But,  as 


EDWARD   PAYSON.  283 

their  thirst  increases,  they  become  willing  to  relin- 
quish what  they  had  thought  of  so  much  value,  and 
finally  emptying  their  vessels  of  this  rubbish,  and  re- 
ceiving the  water,  they  quench  their  thirst.  Thus  it 
is  with  sinners  :  Jesus  Christ  invites  them  to  come  to 
him,  the  Fountain  of  living  waters.  But  they  decline 
his  invitations — their  hearts  being  filled  with  the  trea- 
sures of  earth.  They  do  not  thirst  for  Christ  till  God 
takes  away  the  love  of  this  world  and  its  vanities,  and 
the  Holy  Spirit  fills  them  with  desire  to  come  to  him. 
Then  they  hunger  and  thirst  after  righteousness,  and 
are  prepared  to  receive  Christ." 

"  Were  a  man  suddenly  precipitated  into  the  sea,  and, 
after  making  ineffectual  struggles  to  save  himself,  to 
give  up  all  for  lost — should  he  at  this  crisis  perceive  a 
boat  approaching,  and  a  friendly  hand  extended  for  his 
rescue,  he  would,  at  first,  scarcely  credit  his  senses,  or 
realize  that  he  was  safe  ;  his  joy  would  be  so  great, 
and  his  gratitude  to  his  preserver  so  ardent.  But  after 
the  first  transports  had  subsided  he  would  feel  more 
real  pleasure  in  contemplating  the  vessel,  in  admiring 
the  wisdom  apparent  in  its  construction,  and  its  ad- 
mirable adaptedness  for  saving  from  death  all  who 
were  in  his  late  situation,  than  he  would  when  he 
viewed  it  merely  as  the  means  of  saving  his  own  life. 
So  the  sinner,  when  first  he  finds  himself  rescued  from 
destruction,  is  full  of  love  to  Christ  for  his  peculiar 
and  unmerited  mercy  to  himself.  But  as  he  increases 
in  knowledge  and  Christian  attainments,  has  clearer 
views  of  the  character  of  God  and  the  wisdom  and 
grace  which  appear  in  the  plan  of  redemption,  his  love 
has  less  and  less  of  selfishness." 

"  Suppose  two  persons   equally  desirous   to  gain 


284  MEMOIR    OP 

your  affeciions — one  far  distant,  and  not  expecting  to 
see  you  for  a  loni:  time  ;  the  other  ahvay.«i  present 
with  you,  and  at  liberty  to  use  all  means  to  win  your 
love,  able  to  Hatter  and  gratify  you  in  a  thousand  ways. 
Still  you  prefer  the  absent  one  ;  and  that  you  may  keep 
him  in  remembrance,  you  often  retire  by  yourself  to 
think  of  his  love  to  you,  and  view  again  and  again  the 
mementos  of  his  affection,  to  read  his  letters,  and  pour 
out  your  heart  in  return.  Such  is  now  your  case ; 
the  world  is  always  before  you,  to  flatter,  promise,  and 
please.  But  if  you  really  prefer  to  love  God,  you  will 
fix  your  thougiits  on  him,  often  retire  for  meditation 
and  prayer,  and  recount  the  pleasant  gifts  ot'  his  pro- 
vidence, and  especially  his  intinite  mercy  to  your  soul; 
you  will  read  frequently  his  holy  word,  which  is  the 
letter  he  has  sent  you  as  really  as  if  it  were  directed 
to  you  by  name.'' 

"  Religion  is  the  golden  chain  which  God  lets  down 
from  heaven,  with  a  link  for  every  person  in  this  room, 
inviting  each  to  take  hold,  that  you  may  be  drawn  b]f 
it  to  himself.  You  can  readily  perceive  how  disa 
greeable  it  would  be  to  be  linked  to  one  whom  you 
disliked,  and  drawn  by  him  whithersoever  he  wills, 
but  you  would  gladly  be  drawn  and  guided  in  every 
thing  by  the  person  whom  you  ardently  loved.  There 
is  this  ditference  between  the  Christian  and  the  sin- 
ner. However  reluctant  and  full  of  hatred,  still  the 
sinner  is  controlled  by  God  ;  the  Christian  is  equally 
in  his  hands,  but  is  drawn  by  the  cords  of  love." 

'•It  has  been  frequently  wished  by  Christians,  that 
there  were  some  rule  laid  down  in  the  Bible,  tixing 
the  proportion  of  their  property  which  they  ought  to 
contribute  to  religious  uses.     This  is  as  if  a  child 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  295 

should  go  to  his  father  and  say,  '  Father,  how  many 
times  in  the  day  must  I  come  to  you  with  some  testi- 
monial of  my  love  ?  how  often  will  it  be  necessary 
to  show  my  affection  for  you?' — The  father  would 
of  course  reply,  'Just  as  often  as  your  feelings  prompt 
you,  my  child,  and  no  oftener.'  Just  so  Christ  says 
to  his  people  :  '  Look  at  me,  and  see  what  I  have  done 
and  suffered  for  you,  and  then  give  me  just  what  you 
think  I  deserve.     I  do  not  wish  any  thing  forced.' " 

"  Once  I  dreamed  of  being  transported  to  heaven, 
and  being  surprised  to  find  myself  so  calm  and  tran- 
quil in  the  midst  of  my  happiness,  inquired  the  cause. 
The  reply  was — When  you  were  on  earth,  you  re- 
sembled a  bottle  but  partly  filled  with  water,  which 
was  agitated  by  the  least  motion  ;  now  you  are  like 
the  same  bottle  filled  to  the  brim,  which  cannot  be 
disturbed." 

"  Christ  said  to  Mary,  Fear  not ;  I  know  that  you 
seek  Jesus.  If  ye  really  seek  Jesus,  he  says  the  same 
to  you.  Fear  not — death,  sorrow,  sickness,  any  thing. 
If  they  are  thus  blessed  who  seek  Jesus,  what  must 
those  be  who  have  found  him  ?" 

To  an  inquirer  who  complained  that  the  difficulties 
in  his  way  increased  rather  than  diminished,  he  said, 
"You  might  bind  a  bird  with  a  soft  silken  cord,  and 
while  he  remains  still  he  will  not  be  sensible  of  his 
confinement ;  but  as  soon  as  he  attempts  to  fly  he  will 
feel  the  cord  that  confines  him  ;  and  the  greater  his 
desire  and  his  efforts  to  escape,  the  more  sensible  will 
he  be  of  his  bondage.  So  the  sinner  may  long  be  a 
slave  to  his  sins 
to  go  to  Christ.' 

"  Every  person  has  some  object  which  he  loves  su- 


286  MEMOIR    OF 

premely ;  and  in  every  unrenewed  man  that  object  is 
self.  Suppose,  for  illustration,  that  you  have  an  image 
which  is  in  reality  extremely  ugly,  but  which  you 
think  beautiful,  and  you  spend  all  your  time  in  polish- 
ing and  adorning  it.  At  length,  however,  you  begin 
to  sec  something  of  its  deformity,  but  endeavor  to  con- 
ceal it  from  others,  and  if  possible  from  yourself,  by 
painting  and  dressing  it.  Notwithstanding  all  your 
efforts,  it  grows  more  and  more  ugly,  till  at  last,  in 
despair  of  amending  it  yourself,  you  pray  that  God 
would  make  it  more  lovely.  It  is  evident  in  this  case 
that  your  prayers  would  not  proceed  from  love  to  God, 
but  from  love  to  your  idol;  and  therefore  there  would 
be  no  goodness  in  them.  Suppose  that  during  all  this 
time  a  person  was  entreating  you  to  look  at  a  beau- 
tiful diamond  statue,  which  you  refused  to  do  ;  until, 
wearied  with  useless  efforts  to  make  your  image  ap- 
pear more  beautiful,  you  turn  and  look  at  the  statue. 
Immediately  you  see  your  idol  in  all  its  native  defor- 
mity ;  you  cast  it  aside,  and  begin  to  admire  and  extol 
the  statue.  This  idol  represents  self,  and  every  un- 
renewed person  admires  and  loves  it  supremely. 
When  his  conscience  is  awakened  to  see  something 
of  his  sinfulness,  he  first  endeavors  to  make  himself 
better ;  and  it  is  long  before  he  finds  that  he  cannot 
change  his  own  heart.  When  he  finds  that  notwith- 
standing all  his  endeavors  his  heart  seems  to  grow 
worse  and  worse,  he  prays  to  God  for  help.  It  is  not 
from  love  to  God,  or  because  God  has  commanded  it, 
that  he  prays  ;  but  because  he  is  unwilling  to  see  him- 
self so  sinful ;  so  that  his  prayers  arise  merely  from 
pride  and  selfishness.  But  if  he  will  only  turn  and 
look  to  Christ,  he  sees  his  sins  in  a  new  light,  and  no 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  287 

longer  loves  himself  supremely ;  all  his  affections  are 
transferred  to  Christ.  He  then  prays  to  be  made  bet- 
ter, not  to  gratify  his  pride,  but  because  he  sees  some- 
thing of  the  beauty  of  holiness,  and  longs  to  resemble 
his  divine  Master." 

'•  Suppose  one  man  owes  another  a  thousand  pounds, 
but  he  is  unable  to  pay  the  debt,  and  denies  that  he 
owes  it.  His  creditor  being  a  very  compassionate  man, 
says  to  him,  '  I  do  not  wish  for  your  money,  and  as 
soon  as  you  will  own  the  debt  to  be  a  just  one,  I  will 
release  you  from  your  obligation  5  but  I  cannot  do  it 
before,  for  that  would  be  in  fact  acknowledging  that 
I  am  in  the  wrong.'  The  poor  man  refuses  to  confess 
that  he  owes  the  money,  and  is  in  consequence  sent 
to  prison.  After  remaining  there  for  a  time,  he  sends 
his  creditor  word  that  he  will  allow  that  he  owes  him 
a  hundred  pounds.  But  that  will  not  do.  After 
another  interval  he  says  he  will  allow  that  he  owes 
two  hundred  pounds;  and  thus  he  keeps  gradually 
giving  up  a  little  more,  until  he  gets  to  nine  hundred ; 
there  he  stops  a  long  while.  At  length  finding  there 
is  no  other  way  of  escape,  he  acknowledges  the  whole 
debt,  and  is  released.  Still  it  would  be  free,  unmerited 
kmdness  in  the  creditor,  and  the  poor  man  would  have 
no  right  to  say,  '  I  partly  deserved  it,  because  I  owned 
the  debt ;'  for  he  ought  to  have  done  that  whether  he 
was  liberated  or  not.  Just  in  this  manner  we  have 
treated  God.  When  he  comes  and  charges  us  with 
having  broken  his  law,  we  deny  it ;  we  will  allow  per- 
haps that  we  deserve  a  slight  punishment,  but  not  all 
v/hich  God  has  threatened.  But  if  we  are  ever  to  be 
saved,  God  comes  and  as  it  were  shuts  us  up  in  pri- 
son ;  that  is,  he  awakens  our  consciences  and  sends  his 


288  MEMOIR    OP 

Spirit  to  convince  us  of  sin.  Thus  we  every  day  see 
more  and  more  of  the  desperate  wickedness  of  our 
hearts,  until  we  are  ready  to  allow  that  we  have  de- 
served eternal  condemnation.  As  soon  as  we  ac- 
knowledge this,  God  is  ready  to  pardon  us  ;  but  it  is 
evident  that  we  do  not  deserve  pardon,  that  he  is  not 
under  the  least  obligation  to  bestow  it,  and  that  all 
who  are  saved,  are  saved  through  free,  unmerited 
grace." 

"  One  excuse  which  awakened  sinners  are  accus- 
tomed to  alledge  in  their  own  defence  is,  that  they  wish 
to  love  God  and  to  have  new  hearts,  but  cannot.  They 
do  indeed  w^ish  to  be  saved,  but  they  are  not  willing 
to  be  saved  in  God's  way  ;  that  is,  they  are  not  willing 
to  accept  salvation  as  a  free  gift.  They  would  do  any 
thing  to  buy  it,  but  will  not  take  it  without  money  and 
without  price.  Suppose  that  you  were  very  sick,  and 
were  told  by  the  physician  that  there  was  but  one 
medicine  in  the  world  which  could  save  your  life,  and 
that  this  was  exceedingly  precious.  You  were  also 
told  that  there  was  but  one  person  in  the  world  who 
had  any  of  this  in  his  possession ;  and  that,  although 
he  was  willing  to  give,  it  to  those  who  asked,  he  would 
on  no  account  sell  any.  Suppose  this  person  to  be  one 
whom  you  had  treated  w^th  great  neglect  and  con- 
tempt, injured  in  every  possible  way.  How  exceed- 
ingly unwilling  would  you  be  to  send  to  him  for  the 
medicine  as  a  gift !  You  would  rather  purchase  it  at 
the  expense  of  your  whole  fortune.  You  would  defer 
sending  as  long  as  possible,  and  when  you  found  that 
you  were  daily  growmg  worse,  and  nothing  else  could 
save  you,  you  would  be  obliged,  however  reluctantly, 
to  send  and  ask  for  some.    Just  so  unwilling  are  sin- 


EmVARD   PAYSON.  289 

tiets  to  apply  to  God  for  salvation  as  ia  free  gift ;  and 
they  will  not  do  it  until  they  find  themselves  perishing, 
and  that  there  is  no  other  hope  for  them." 

'*  The  young  convert,  in  judging  of  the  reality  of  his 
conversion,  generally  lays  much  stress  upon  having  a 
great  deal  of  joy ;  and  regards  that  as  a  very  decisive 
proof  that  he  is  a  disciple  of  Christ.  But  this  is  one 
of  the  most  fallacious  proofs,  and  no  dependenco 
ought  to  be  placed  on  it.  It  is  not  desirable  at  first 
to  have  full  assurance  of  our  salvation,  for  our  love  is 
then  weak ;  and  some  degree  of  fear  is  likewise  ne- 
cessary to  keep  us  near  to  Christ." 

'•  Suppose  a  child  accidentally  falls  into  a  pit,  and 
when  some  person  comes  to  help  him  out,  instead  ot 
thankfully  accepting  the  offer,  he  says,  '  No ;  I  will 
not  have  you  to  help  me  out ;  I  wish  some  one  else  to 
assist  me.'  He  is  told  by  his  father  that  he  shall  not 
be  assisted  by  any  other  person.  Yet  he  still  prefers 
remaining  in  the  pit  to  accepting  that  person's  offer. 
Does  it  not  indicate  strong  aversion  to  him  1  Yet  it  is 
precisely  thu«  that  the  sinner  treats  Christ.  He  is 
exposed  to  danger,  from  which  none  but  Christ  can 
deliver  him.  Yet  rathsr  than  accept  his  assistance, 
he  tries  every  ether  method  again  and  again  ;  and 
when  he  finds  all  his  efforts  unsuccessful,  he  practi- 
cally says,  '  I  had  rather  perish  than  be  saved  by 
Christ.'  How  justly  might  the  Savior  take  him  at 
hii=  word,  and  leave  him  to  perish  I" 

'•  The  manner  in  which  ])eople  obtain  a  false  hope 
is  generally  this:  they  first  believe  that  God  is  recon- 
ciled to  them,  and  then  are  reconciled  to  him  on  thai 
account;  but  if  they  thought  that  God  was  still  dis- 
pleased with,  and  determined  to  punish  them,  they 

M»  p.  25 


290  MEMOIR  or 

would  find  their  enmity  to  him  revive.  On  the  con- 
trary, the  Christian  is  reconciled  because  he  sees  the 
holiness  of  the  law  which  he  has  broken,  and  God's 
justice  in  punishing  him;  he  takes  part  with  God 
against  himself,  cordially  submits  to  him,  and  this 
when  he  expects  condemnation.  lie.  is  reconciled, 
because  he  is  pleased  with  the  character  of  God  ;  the 
false  convert^  because  he  hopes  God  is  pleased  with 
him." 

"  It  is  morally  impossible  for  God  to  pardon  sinners 
without  repentance.  The  moment  he  should  do  it, 
he  would  cease  to  be  a  perfectly  holy  being  ;  of  course 
all  the  songs  of  heaven  would  stop,  and  all  the  happi- 
ness of  the  universe  be  dried  up.  In  his  conduct  he 
is  governed  by  a  regard  to  the  good  of  the  whole.  If 
a  sovereign,  out  of  false  pity  to  criminals,  should  par- 
don them  indiscriminately,  he  would  thus  destroy  the 
happiness  of  all  his  faithful  subjects,  and  introduce 
misery  and  confusion  into  his  kingdom..  But  infinitely 
worse  consequences  would  ensue,  if  God  should  ne- 
glect to  punish  those  who  transgress  his  law.  His 
vast  dominions  would  become  one  universal  scene  of 
anarchy  and  confusion  ;  happiness  would  be  banished 
for  ever ;  and  misery,  in  its  most  aggravated  forms, 
would  prevail  throughout  the  universe.  Yet  all  this 
the  sinner  would  think  ought  to  be  endured,  rather 
than  that  he  should  be  obliged  to  repent  of  his  sins.*' 

"Young  converts  generally  suppose  that  it  is  their 
strong  faith  which  enables  them  to  go  to  God  and  ask 
to  be  forgiven,  without  much  fear  or  hesitation;  but 
faith  has  less  to  do  with  it  than  they  imagine.  It  is 
because  they  see  little  of  their  own  sinfulness  and 
God's  hatred  of  sin.     If  they  had  clear  views  of  thesp 


EDWARD   PAYSON.  291 

truths,  they  would  find  their  weak  faith  very  insuffi- 
cient to  induce  them  to  go  to  Christ.  Suppose  a  man, 
who  had  never  seen  fire,  and  who  knew  its  effects  only 
by  report,  should  be  told  that  at  a  certain  distant  pe- 
riod he  would  be  obliged  to  pass  through  a  fire.  He 
is  told  also  that  there  is  but  one  kind  of  garment  that 
can  protect  him  from  its  influence.  A  person  gives 
him  this  robe,  and  although  it  appears  to  him  very  thin 
and  flimsy,  yet  he  feels  very  well  satisfied  with  it  be- 
fore he  has  seen  the  fire.  But  when  the  destined 
time  arrives,  and  he  sees  the  fire  blazing  out  and  con- 
suming every  thing  within  its  reach,  his  confidence 
fails.  At  first,  a  small  degree  of  faith  enables  the 
Christian  to  go  to  God ;  but  as  he  advances  in  the 
knowledge  of  his  own  heart  and  God's  hatred  of  sin, 
his  faith  must  also  be  increased,  to  enable  him  to  ap- 
proach his  heavenly  Father  with  confidence." 

"  The  young  convert  may  be  compared  to  a  child 
whom  his  father  is  leading  over  a  rugged  and  uneven 
path.  After  proceeding  for  some  time  without  much 
difficulty,  he  forgets  that  it  has  been  owing  to  his  fa- 
ther's assistance — begins  to  think  that  he  may  now 
venture  to  walk  by  himself,  and  consequently  falls. 
Humbled  and  dejected,  he  then  feels  his  own  weak- 
ness, and  clings  to  his  father  for  support.  Soon,  how- 
ever, elated  with  his  progress,  he  again  forgets  the 
kind  hand  which  sustains  him,  fancies  he  needs  no 
more  assistance,  and  again  falls.  This  process  is  re- 
peated a  thousand  times  in  the  course  of  the  Chris- 
tian's experience,  till  he  learns,  at  length,  that  his 
own  strength  is  perfect  weakness,  and  that  he  must 
depend  solely  on  his  heavenly  Father." 

"  To  assist  you  in  estimating  the  criminality  of  sin, 


292  MEMOIR  or 

suppose  that  you  had  committed  the  first  sin — that, 
before  you  were  born,  such  a  thing  had  never  been 
heard  or  thought  of,  but  that  all  beings  had  united  in 
loving  and  serving  God,  till  all  at  once  you  started 
up  and  began  to  disobey  his  commands.  What  a  com- 
motion would  be  excited  !  Instantly  the  news  would 
spread  through  heaven  and  earth  with  inconceivable 
rapidity,  and  all  ranks  and  orders  of  beings  would  join 
in  exclaiming,  'It  cannot  be!  Where  is  the  wretch 
who  would  dare  to  disobey  Jehovah?'  Suppose,  then, 
that  you  were  obliged  to  come  forward  and  stand  in 
the  view  of  the  assembled  universe  of  myriads  of  sin- 
less beings,  who  all  regarded  you  with  feelings  of  asto- 
nishment, horror,  detestation,  too  strong  for  utterance. 
How  inexpressibly  dreadful  Avould  sin  appear  in  this 
point  of  view !  And  yet  it  is  in  reality  just  as  dread- 
ful and  as  criminal  to  sin  now,  as  if  no  sin  had  ever 
been  committed  by  another." 

"  The  difference  between  true  and  false  religion 
may  be  thus  illustrated.  Suppose  a  king  visits  two 
families  of  his  subjects.  The  members  of  one  think  it 
great  condescension  in  him  to  visit  them ;  they  shoAV 
him  every  possible  mark  of  afi'ection  and  respect,  and 
they  are  filled  with  regret  and  unhappiness  at  his  de- 
parture. The  other  family  have  no  real  love  for  him ; 
and  though  self-interest  prompts  them  to  show  him 
every  external  mark  of  respect,  yet  it  is  constrained, 
and  they  are  glad  when  he  departs.  Now,  if  this  king 
could  read  the  heart,  and  saw  that  their  services  were 
insincere,  he  could  not  of  course  be  pleased  ;  and  the 
more  assiduous  they  were  in  their  attentions,  if 
prompted  wholly  by  self-interest,  the  more  wo.,)d  he 
be  disgusted.    In  the  same  manner,  when  Goa,  oy  his 


EDWARD   PAYSON.  293 

Spirit,  visits  the  true  Christian,  it  fills  him  with  joy 
and  gladness  ;  his  presence  is  life;  and  when  he  hides 
his  face,  nothing  can  afford  pleasure  or  satisfaction. 
But  when  thoughts  of  God  enter  the  mind  of  the  sin- 
ner, he  feels  uneasy,  and  tries  to  get  rid  of  them.  He 
may,  from  selfish  motives,  affect  to  seek  God  ;  but  his 
heart  is  not  in  it,  and  he  longs  after  the  pleasures  of 
the  world.  This  is  the  way  in  which  all  awakened, 
yet  impenitent  sinners,  seek  God  ;  and  yet  they  are 
displeased  because  he  will  not  accept  such  heartless 
services." 

"  We  are  apt  to  feel  as  if,  by  our  prayers,  we  laid 
God  under  obligation  to  save  us  ;  as  if  our  feeble,  im- 
perfect services  Avere  'profitable  to  him.'  Suppose  a 
poor  beggar  should  say  of  some  rich  nobleman,  '  He 
is  under  great  obligations  to  me,  and  when  asked 
'  Why  V  should  answer,  '  I  have  been  every  clay,  for 
a  great  many  years,  and  told  him  a  long  story  of  my 
wants,  and  asked  him  to  help  me.'  You  can  see  how 
absurd  this  appears  ;  and  yet  it  is  precisely  similar  to 
our  conduct;  except  indeed  that  ours  is  much  more 
absurd,  because  the  disparity  between  God  and  us  is 
infinitely  greater  than  can  exist  between  any  two 
mortals." 

"When  sinners  have  been  awakened  to  see  their 
guilt  and  danger,  and  are  invited  to  come  to  Christ 
and  be  saved,  they  frequently  make  such  excuses  as 
these — 'I  cannot  believe  that  the  invitations  of  the 
Gospel  were  intended  for  such  sinners  as  I  am ;  I  am 
afraid  I  do  not  feel  right,  and  that  Christ  will  not  re- 
ceive me.'  Suppose  a  table  set  in  the  street,  and 
loaded  with  all  kinds  of  food ;  and  that  a  herald  is  sent 
to  make  proclamation  that  all  who  wish  may  come 

M.  p.  25* 


294  MEMOIR   OP 

and  partake  freely.     A  poor  man  comes,  and  stands 
looking  very  wishfully  at  the  table ;  and,  when  he  is 
asked  why  he  does  not  eat,  replies — O,  I  am  afraid 
the   invitation   is  not  meant  for  me ;  I  am  not  fit." 
Again  he  is  assured  that  the  invitation  is  intended  for 
all  those  who  are  hungry,  and  that  no  other  qualifica- 
tion is  necessary.    Still  he  objects — '  But  1  am  afraid  I 
am  not  hungry  enough.'    In  the  same  way  do  sinners 
deprive  themselves,  by  their  own  folly,  of  those  bless- 
ings which  are  freely  offered  them  by  their  Creator." 
"  Suppose  the  rebellious  subjects  of  a  very  wise  and 
good  kmg  condemned  to  death.   The  king  has  a  son, 
who,  from  compassion  to  these  poor  wretches,  offers 
to  make  satisfaction  to  his  father  for  their  crimes,  if 
he  will  pardon  them.    The  king  consents  on  one  con- 
dition.    He  places  his  son  at  the  door  of  his  palace, 
.^and  makes  proclamation,  that  every  one  who  comes  to 
•  him  for  pardon,  and  is  led  in  by  his  son,  shall  be  for- 
_given  for  his  sake.     One  of  the  culprits  comes,  and, 
rejecting  the  proffered  hand  of  the  prince,  rushes  to 
the  throne  himself.     Can  this   man  expect  mercy  ? 
»  Thus  God  has  provided  a  Mediator,  and  commanded 
..^11  to  approach  in  his  name  ;  and  none  can  expect  to 
■  be  received  who  do  not  come  to  God  in  this  appointed 
way." 

"  One  mark  of  a  true  convert  is,  that  he  continues 
to  repent  of  his  sins  after  he  hopes  that  they  are  par- 
doned. All  that  the  hypocrite  desires  is  salvation 
from  punishment ;  and  when  he  thinks  this  end  se- 
cured he  feels  no  concern  respecting  his  sins.  But 
the  true  Christian  desires  to  be  saved  from  sin  ;  and 
his  hatred  of  sin,  and  repentance  for  it,  increase  in 
proportion  as  his  assurance  of  heaven  increases.  Ano- 


EDWARD   PAYSON.  295 

ther  mark  is,  that  all  disposition  to  make  excuses  is 
taken  away.  The  repentant  sinner  feels  willing  to  lie 
at  God's  feet  and  confess  his  sins,  without  even  wish 
ing  to  excuse  them." 

"■It  evinces  more  depravity  not  to  repent  of  a  sin, 
than  it  does  to  commit  it  at  first.  A  good  man  may  be 
hurried  away  by  temptation  to  commit  a  sin,  but  he 
will  invariably  repent  of  it  afterwards.  To.  deny,  as 
Peter  did,  is  bad ;  but  not  to  weep  bitterly,  as  he  did, 
when  we  have  denied,  is  worse." 

"  We  may  have  the  form  of  godliness  without  the 
power ;  but  it  is  impossible  to  have  the  power  without 
the  form." 

"  The  promises  in  the  Bible  to  prayer  are  not  mad^ 
to  one  act,  but  to  the  continued  habit  of  prayer." 


CHAPTER   XV. 

The  same  s\d)ject — Bible  class — Pastoral  visits — Social  par- 
ties— Special  and  casual  interviews — Charm  of  his  convet' 
sation — Singular  rencounter —  Whence  his  competency — His 
publications. 

If  there  is  a  spectacle  on  earth  peculiarly  animating 
to  the  thoughtful  Christian  who  waits  and  prays  tor 
the  salvation  of  God,  it  is  the  faithful,  affectionate  pas- 
tor, with  the  Bible  in  his  hand,  surrounded  by  the  chil- 
dren and  youth  of  his  congregation,  and  leading  them 
into  "green  pastures,  and  beside  the  still  waters."  It 
cannot  be  witnessed  without  a  thrill  of  unusual  de- 


296  MEMOIR   OF 

light  and  anticipations  of  the  most  cheering  charactei 
There  may  be  more  of  immediate  personal  enjoyment 
in  the  communion  of  saints,  and  in  that  foretaste  of  an 
eternal  feast  which  is  granted  to  the  redeemed  of  the 
Lord,  when,  gathered  around  the  sacraitiental  board, 
they  glory  in  the  cross,  and  celebrate  the  love  of  Him 
who  died  on  it,  and  their  faith  anticipates  the  hour  when 
they  "  shall  see  Him  as  he  is,"  and  come  to  the  hea- 
venly Zion  and  commence  their  everlasting  song.  But 
the  same  principle  which  causes  "joy  in  heaven  over 
one  sinner  that  repenteth,  more  than  over  ninety  and 
nine  just  persons  who  need  no  repentance,"  is  emi- 
nently a  principle  of  benevolence,  which  is  gratified 
with  every  prospect  of  increase  to  the  "  great  multi- 
tude whom  no  man  can  number ;"  and  it  is  called  into 
action,  and  operates  with  no  ordinary  effect,  in  view  of 
a  collection  of  youth  grouped  around  their  beloved 
spiritual  teacher,  engaged  in  investigating  the  truths 
of  the  Bible  and  ascertaining  the  duties  which  it  en- 
joins. It  is  a  sight  full  of  hope  and  promise.  It  is  not 
presumption  to  expect  from  it  the  choicest  spiritual 
fruits  which  a  minister  is  ever  permitted  to  reap.  It 
is  among  this  class  of  his  charge  that  he  may  emi- 
nently "  sow  in  hope."  The  promises  of  God  autho- 
rize him  to  expect  extensive  and  glorious  results.  It 
was  upon  the  youth  that  Mr.  Payson  expended  some 
of  his  best  exertions ;  and  these  labors  brought  him  a 
"harvest  of  golden  sheaves." 

His  heart  was  drawn  towards  the  rising  generation, 
and  meditated  various  expedients  for  advancing  their 
welfare.  He  does  indeed  record  and  lament,  among 
his  deficiencies,  the  neglect  of  special  efforts  for  their 
instruction  and  salvation.    But,  compared  with  what 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  297 

had  been  the  ordinary  standard  of  ministerial  practice, 
he  abounded  in  works  of  this  description.  Though 
from  the  first  he  did  not  fail  to  give  them  appropriate 
instruction,  yet  it  was  not  till  the  latter  years  of  his 
ministry  that  the  interesting  group  who  periodically 
gathered  around  him  took  the  designation  of  Bible 
class;  and  at  that  time  his  manner  underwent  a 
slight  modification.  The  subjoined  specimens  were 
furnished  by  young  persons  to  whom  they  were 
blessed: 

"  A  way-faring  man  stops  at  a  tavern,  and,  to  be- 
guile the  time  of  his  stay  there,  looks  round  for  some 
book.  He  sees  perhaps  a  newspaper,  an  almanac,  and 
the  Bible ;  but  chooses  to  pore  over  either  of  the  for- 
mer in  preference  to  the  word  of  God,  thinking  it  hard- 
ly possible  to  be  amused  or  interested  in  that.  Even 
a  Christian  will  sometimes  do  thus.  This  is  as  if  a 
man  should  be  introduced  into  an  apartment,  in  one 
division  of  which  were  Jesus  Christ  and  his  apostles, 
and  in  the  other  the  most  dissolute  and  frivolous  com- 
pany ;  and,  on  being  invited  by  the  Savior  to  sit  with 
them  and  enjoy  their  company,  should  refuse,  and  seat 
himself  with  the  others.  Would  not  this  be  a  most 
gross  insult  to  the  Savior?  and  do  you  not  equally  un- 
dervalue and  refuse  his  company  when  you  thus  ne- 
glect and  despise  his  holy  word — through  which  he 
converses  with  you,  and  invites  you  near  to  himself — 
and  choose  some  foolish  production  instead  of  it?" 

"  God  holds  out  to  you,  as  it  were,  a  thread  no 
stronger  than  a  spider's  web,  and  says—"  Take  hold 
of  this  thread  ;  I  will  increase  its  strength  day  by  day, 
until  it  becomes  the  line  of  salvation  to  you.  So  it  is 
with  the  little  interest  you  feel  in  the  Bible  class.   If 


298  MEMOIR    OF 

you  cherish  this,  if  you  reflect  upon  what  you  read 
and  hear,  and  daily  pray  to  be  made  wise  by  these  in- 
structions, God  will  increase  your  interest  to  its  con- 
summation, till  you  become  perfect  ones  in  Christ 
Jesus.  But  if  you  lose  your  hold  on  this  thread,  you 
are  lost." 

The  following  paragraph  illustrates  his  manner  of 
stating  the  argument,  and  its  application — the  subject 
before  the  class  being  the  evidence  from  the  light  of 
nature  that  there  is  a  God  : 

"  Suppose,  my  young  friends,  that,  in  traveling 
through  a  wilderness,  a  spacious  garden  should  burst 
upon  your  view,  in  the  midst  of  which  is  a  splendid 
palace.  Upon  entering  it  you  perceive,  in  every  apart- 
ment, proofs  of  the  agency  of  some  living  person, 
though  you  see  no  one.  Complicated  machinery  is 
moving,  and  various  operations  are  carried  on ;  but 
still  the  agent  who  produces  these  effects  is  invisible. 
Would  you  be  the  less  convinced  that  they  were  pro- 
duced by  some  intelligent  agent?  And  if  you  should 
be  told  that  the  palace  came  there  by  chance,  and 
that  all  the  movements  you  witnessed  were  caused  by 
no  power  whatever,  you  would  regard  him  who  should 
tell  you  thus,  either  as  a  fool  or  a  liar.  Now,  you  have 
the  same  proof  of  the  existence  of  God  in  his  works, 
that  you  would  have  in  the  case  I  have  supposed,  of 
the  existence  and  presence  of  some  invisible  agent; 
and  it  is  just  as  unreasonable  to  doubt  of  his  existence, 
as  it  would  be  to  doubt  whether  the  palace  had  been 
built  by  any  person,  or  was  only  the  work  of  chance. 
Suppose  you  were  informed,  by  a  writing  on  the  wall, 
that  the  palace  was  inhabited  or  haunted  by  spirits, 
who  were  constantly  watching  your  conduct,  and  who 


EDWARD    !»AY30N.  299 

had  power  to  punish  you,  if  it  displeased  them ;  and 
that  you  were  also  informed  at  the  same  time  of  the 
course  of  conduct  which  it  would  be  necessary  to  pur- 
sue in  order  to  obtain  their  approbation.  How  careful 
would  you  be  to  observe  the  rules,  and  how  fearful  ot 
displeasing  these  powerful  spirits  !  And  if  you  were 
further  informed  that  these  were  the  spirits  of  your 
deceased  parents,  and  that  they  were  able  to  hear,  if 
you  addressed  them — how  delightful  it  would  be  to  go 
and  tell  them  of  your  wants  and  sorrows,  and  feel  sure 
that  they  listened  to  you  with  sympathy  and  compas- 
sion ! — I  tell  you,  my  young  friends,  this  world  is 
haunted,  if  I  may  so  express  it — haunted  by  the  Eter- 
nal Spirit.  He  has  given  you  rules  by  which  to  regu- 
late your  conduct,  and  is  able  to  punish  every  devia- 
tion from  them.  And  can  you  recollect  that  such  a 
Being  is  constantly  noticing  your  conduct,  and  still 
persist  in  disobeying  his  commands  7  God  is  also  your 
Heavenly  Father ;  and  why  can  you  not  go  to  him,  as 
such,  with  the  same  confidence  which  you  would  ex- 
ercise in  an  earthly  parent?" 

In  explanation  of  the  command  to  glorify  God : — "  It 
may  seem  strange  and  presumptuous  to.  speak  of  such 
poor,  sinful,  worthless  beings  as  we  are,  as  glorifying, 
or  as  capable  of  glorifying  God.  But  the  perfect  Chris- 
tian may  be  compared  to  a  perfect  mirror,  which, 
though  dark  and  opaque  of  itself,  being  placed  before 
the  sun,  reflects  his  whole  image,  and  may  be  said  to 
increase  his  glory,  by  increasing  and  scattering  his 
light.  In  this  view  we  may  regard  heaven,  w^here  God 
is  perfectly  glorified  in  his  saints,  as  the  firmament 
studded  with  ten  thousand  times  ten  thousand,  and 
thousands  of  thousands  of  mirrors,  every  one  of  them 


300  MEMOIR   OP 

reflecting  a  perfect  image  of  God,  the  Sun  in  the  centre, 
and  filling  the  universe  with  the  blaze  of  his  glory." 

"  Whenev^er  you  feel  any  thing  within  you,  my  deaf 
young  friends,  urging  you  to  attend  to  religion,  it  ia 
the  Spirit  of  God ;  and  if  you  refuse  to  comply,  you 
will  grieve  him  away.  Suppose  God  should  let  down 
from  heaven  a  number  of  very  fine  cords,  and  if  any 
person  should  take  hold  of  one,  it  would  continue  to 
grow  larger  and  stronger,  till  at  length  he  is  drawn  by 
it  into  heaven.  Great  care  would  be  necessary,  espe- 
cially at  first,  not  to  break  it;  for  if  once  broken,  it 
might  never  be  renewed.  How  careful  should  we  ex- 
pect the  person  to  be,  to  whom  one  of  these  cords  was 
extended,  not  to  break  it,  to  avoid  all  violence,  and 
follow  wherever  it  led  him  !  Just  so  anxiously  ought 
you  to  cherish  the  good  impressions  which  are  pro* 
duced  on  your  minds  by  the  Spirit  of  God ;  for  if  you 
once  grieve  him  he  may  never  return." 

"  Suppose  a  man  builds  a  temple  with  one  seat  in 
it  very  highland  much  ornamented,  and  another  very 
far  below  it.  You  ask  him  for  whom  those  seats  are 
designed,  and  he  replies — 'Why,  the  most  elevated 
one  is  for  me,  and  the  one  below  it  is  for  God.'  Now, 
in  this  case  you  can  all  see  the  horrible  absurdity  and 
impiety  of  such  conduct ;  and  yet  each  of  you  who 
continues  impenitent  is  doing  this.  You  have  given 
yourselves  the  first  place  in  your  aflections ;  you  have 
thought  more  of  yourselves  than  of  God,  and  have 
done  more  to  please  yourselves  than  to  please  God ; 
in  short,  you  have,  in  every  thing,  preferred  yourselves 
before  him." 

"  Suppose  there  was  a  book  in  which  the  whole  of 
your  life  was  recorded,  each  page  of  which  contained 


EDWARD   PAYSON.  301 

the  events  of  a  day.  At  the  beginning  was  written, 
'  This  is  the  life  of  a  rational,  immortal,  accountable 
creature,  placed  in  this  world  to  prepare  for  eternity.' 
Then  commences  a  long  catalogue  of  sins  ;  every  page 
is  successively  covered  with  blots.  Besides  all  these, 
there  are  the  sins  of  omission,  or  duties  neglected, 
which  swell  to  a  still  greater  amount.  There  are 
more  than  fifty  commands  binding  upon  yeu  every 
moment;  such  as,  to  repent,  to  believe,  to  love  Christ, 
to  watch,  pray,  &c.  none  of  which  you  perform.  Thus 
you  commit,  to  say  the  least,  fifty  sins  in  a  moment* 
Add  to  these  the  first  mentioned  class  of  transgres- 
sions, and  O  what  an  amount  of  guilt  does  the  record 
of  each  day  present !  At  the  bottom  of  every  page  it 
is  written— Did  this  person  live  to  God  to-day  ?  No. 
Did  he  feel  any  gratitude  for  mercies  ?  No.  Did  he 
obey  any  of  God's  commands  ?  No.  Did  he  perform 
any  part  of  the  work  for  which  he  was  created  ?  No." 

One  of  his  most  acceptable  methods  of  communicat- 
mg  instruction  and  exciting  a  religious  interest,  was 
by  visits  to  the  families  of  his  parishioners ;  and, 
though  he  speaks  of  himself  as  living  extempore,  they 
will  cheerfully  give  him  credit  for  system  in  this  branch 
of  duty.  It  was  a  custom  which  he  commenced  almost 
simultaneously  with  his  ministry,  to  give  notice  from 
the  pulpit  that  the  families  in  a  particular  district,  or 
street,  might  expect  him  at  a  given  time  in  the  course 
of  the  following  week,  and  to  request,  that,  if  consist- 
ent with  their  engagements,  they  would  all  be  at  home  ; 
he  wished  to  see  the  family  together.  Accordingly, 
when  he  entered  a  house,  he  usually  found  all  in  rea- 
diness for  his  reception,  and  could  proceed  Avithout 
the  loss  of  a  moment  to  deliver  his  message.    The 

M.  P.  26 


302  .MEwMOIR    OF 

time  he  spent  in  ;i  family  did  not  usually  exceed 
twenty  or  thirty  minutes ;  but  was  completely  filled 
up  with  religious  conversation  and  prayer.  He  could 
say  much  in  a  short  time,  and  never  failed  to  "  divide 
a  portion  to  every  member"  capable  of  receiving  it. 
His  "often  infirmities"  compelled  him  to  relinquish 
this  practice,  and,  for  some  years  before  his  death,  to 
limit  his  visits  principally  to  houses  of  afiiiction.  But 
these,  in  a  congregation  comprising  thousands  of  souls, 
were  necessarily  very  numerous. 

He  did  not  decline  occasional  invitations  to  evening 
parties,  as  he  had  given  his  people  to  understand  that 
he  desired  none  to  send  for  him  who  did  not  wish  him 
to  come  as  a  minister  of  Christ.  In  this  character, 
however,  he  was  usually  a  welcome  guest ;  for,  though 
he  was  invariably  serious  and  faithful,  he  was  neither 
abrupt  nor  forbidding  in  his  manner  of  bringing  for- 
ward religious  topics.  The  divine  Model  he  had  so 
diligently  studied  taught  him  how  to  avail  himself  of 
passing  observations  and  occurrences  to  introduce  and 
enforce  man's  obligation  to  attend  to  his  highest  inte- 
rests. He  always  seized  the  right  moment  to  bring 
forward  and  urge  his  Master's  claims ;  and  when  he 
had  obtained  the  ground,  he  was  certain  not  to  yield 
it — indeed,  none  could  wish  to  dispossess  him.  The 
subject  which  he  so  naturally  and  easily  introduced 
he  would  expatiate  upon  and  illustrate,  and  long  hold 
the  listening  company  in  fixed  and  solemn  attention. 
Here  Avere  witnessed  some  of  the  most  enrapturing 
and  powerful  strains  of  his  sacred  eloquence.  A  visit- 
ing party  whose  conversation  was  conducted  by  him, 
had  all  the  advantages  of  a  religious  meeting  in  the 
article  of  instruction,  and  fell  scarcely  short  in  solem- 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  303 

nity.  To  him  it  was  often  as  laborious  as  a  public 
lecture,  as  it  regards  both  preparation  and  the  exercise 
of  speaking.  He  usually  commenced  and  closed  the 
interview  by  prayer. 

It  is  obvious  how  much  such  a  manner  of  conduct- 
ing social  visits  must  tend  to  cultivate  and  cherish  a 
religious  spirit  in  society.  Every  one  has  observed  that, 
as  they  are  often  conducted,  a  single  visit  supplies  mat- 
ter for  a  month's  gossip  and  scandal — evils  which  in- 
fect not  only  the  individuals  who  were  present,  but 
their  families  and  associates.  But  social  intercourse, 
conducted  on  Christian  principles,  precludes  these  and 
similar  evils,  besides  effecting  positive  good.  The 
party  separate  with  salutary  impressions  upon  their 
minds,  and  carry  more  or  less  of  a  holy  savor  into 
their  respective  families.  Religion  becomes  the  sub- 
ject of  domestic  conversation,  which  is  rendered  more 
intelligent  and  profitable  by  the  very  means  v/hich  too 
frequently  operate  as  a  disqualification  for  the  duty. 
In  truth,  no  finite  mind  can  trace  all  the  hapny  conse- 
quences Avhich  flow  from  the  habit  of  associating  reli- 
gion with  all  the  intercourse  and  occurrences  of  life. 

That  it  was  a  leading  object  with  him  to  introduce 
and  extend  this  habit  among  his  people,  appears  from 
almost  every  act  of  his  official  life.  It  accounts,  in 
part,  for  his  remarkable  circumspection,  and  unfailing 
care  to  set  an  example,  in  his  own  person,  of  doing 
all  things  to  the  glory  of  God.  It  was  not  without  re- 
ference to  this,  probably,  that  he  dedicated  his  own 
private  dwelling  to  God ;  or  rather,  that,  Avhen  he  did 
this,  he  called  in  some  of  his  neighbors  to  participate 
in  the  solemnities ;  and  it  was  not  without  its  influ- 
ence.   He  was  called,  in  his  turn,  to  officiate  on  similar 


304  MEMOIR   OF 

occasions  for  them.  A  scene  of  this  kind  is  still  re- 
collected "with  lively  interest  by  the  members  of  a  nu- 
merous family.  In  his  prayer  he  anticipated  almost 
every  possible  circumstance  in  their  future  history  with 
that  reverent  particularity  in  which  he  was,  perhaps, 
unrivalled ;  and  in  such  select,  appropriate,  and  vivid 
expressions,  as  gave  the  very  Avails  of  the  habitation  a 
tongue  that  has  not  since  ceased  to  speak.  The  thought 
that  it  is  a  consecrated  house,  is  suited  to  check  all 
tendencies  to  sinful  levity.  One  of  the  events  antici- 
pated in  the  prayer  has  already  taken  place ;  and  the 
children  of  the  family,  who  now  are  all  members  of 
the  visible  church,  could  tell  with  what  comforting 
and  sustaining  poAver  it  Avas  brought  home  to  their 
hearts  AA'hile  surrounding  the  triupiphant  death-bed  of 
an  invaluable  mother. 

From  the  most  casual  interview  Avith  him,  the  Chris- 
tian could  not  separate  Avithout  being  instructed,  hum- 
bled, and  revived ;  nor  the  impenitent  sinner  Avithout 
a  topic  for  reflection — perhaps  an  arroAV  in  his  heart. 
He  exemplified  one  of  his  own  remarks — •'  Our  un- 
converted friends  should  feel  that  our  Avhole  deport- 
ment, and  even  our  very  silence,  declares  that  aa^c  ear- 
nestly seek  their  salvation." 

A  circumstance  which  gave  to  his  company  one  of 
its  most  attractive  charms,  Avas  his  great  condescen- 
sion and  affability,  Avhich  entirely  relieved  the  interlo- 
cutors of  all  embarrassment.  No  matter  hoAv  aAvkAA'ard- 
ly  or  defectively  they  expressed  their  difficulties,  or 
proposed  their  queries — it  Avas  enough  for  him  that  he 
kneAV  their  meaning.  He  took  no  advantage  of  these 
defects,  to  mortify  them  and  shoAv  off  his  own  supe- 
riority ;  he  never  asked  them  to  repeat  and  "  defne 


EDWARD    PAY30N.  305 

precisely  what  they  wanted" — a  chilling  practice  with 
some  affectedly  wise  and  accurate  men,  which  must 
effectually  silence  the  weak  and  illiterate,  and  cut  off 
from  them  all  hope  of  improvement :  he  took  this  labor 
upon  himself.  If  he  perceived  them  in  danger  of  em- 
barrassment, he  would  interpose  and  help  them  out. 
The  most  broken  and  imperfect  expressions  were  suf- 
ficient to  indicate  to  him  the  exact  wants  and  feelings 
of  the  speaker.  So  truly  was  this  the  case,  that  his 
knowledge  of  others'  thoughts  would  appear  to  a  wit- 
ness almost  intuitive ;  and  he  was  equally  prompt  to 
apply  the  appropriate  counsel.  It  was  from  ignorance 
of  his  power  of  perception,  in  this  respect,  that  some 
have  spoken  of  his  inquiry  meetings,  during  the  latter 
half  of  his  ministry,  as  more  properly  entitled  to  the 
appellation  of  lectures,  or  meetings  for  exhortation. 
But  his  remarks  were  as  really  predicated  on  the  known 
states  of  mind  in  the  assembly,  as  they  ever  are  in  any 
inquiry  meeting,  however  conducted.  The  truth  is,  be- 
sides Avatching  the  individual  characters  of  his  charge 
for  years,  he  had  so  thoroughly  studied  the  moral  and 
spiritual  nature  of  man,  in  connection  with  the  Scrip- 
tures, that  he  could  distinguish  the  symptoms  which 
indicate  the  state  of  the  heart,  with  as  much  readiness 
and  certainty  as  the  most  skillful  physician  can  those 
of  bodily  disease. 

It  was  not  to  man  in  one  attitude  or  situation  only 
that  he  could  adapt  himself,  but  to  men  in  all  situa- 
tions, and  of  every  variety  of  rank  and  character,  and 
every  degree  of  intellectual  culture.  A  bereaved  hus- 
band in  another  town,  to  whom  he  was  known  only 
by  report,  but  whose  wife's  obsequies  he  providential- 
ly attended,  inquired,  some  time  after  the  funeral,  if 

M.  P.  26* 


306  MEMOIR   OP 

Mr.  Payson  had  married  a  second  wife — infeiring,  from 
his  prayer,  that  he  knew,  experimentally,  the  feelings 
inseparable  from  a  state  of  widowhood. 

The  following  imperfectly  described  rencounter 
with  a  lawyer  of  Portland,  who  ranked  high  for  wealth, 
and  was  very  fluent  withall,  will  serve  to  show  Mr. 
Payson's  insight  into  character,  and  his  power  to  mould 
it  to  what  form  he  pleased. 

A  lady,  who  was  the  common  friend  of  Mrs.  Payson 
and  the  lawyer's  wife,  was  sojourning  in  the  family  ol 
the  latter.  After  the  females  of  the  respective  families 
had  interchanged  several  "  calls,"  Mrs. was  de- 
sirous of  receiving  a  formal  visit  from  Mrs.  Payson; 
but  to  efiect  this  Mr.  Payson  must  also  be  invited; 
and  how  to  prevail  with  her  husband  to  tender  an  in- 
vitation was  the  great  difficulty.  He  had  been  accus- 
tomed to  associate  experimental  religion  with  mean- 
ness, and  of  course  felt  or  aflected  great  contempt  for 
Mr.  Payson,  as  if  it  were  impossible  for  a  man  of  his 
religion  to  be  also  a  man  of  talents.  He  knew  by  re- 
port something  of  Mr.  Payson's  practice  on  such  occa- 
sions, and  dreading  to  have  his  house  the  scene  of  what 
appeared  to  him  a  gloomy  interview,  resisted  his  wife's 
proposal  as  long  as  he  could  and  retain  the  character 
of  a  gentleman.  When  he  gave  his  consent,  it  was 
with  the  positive  determination  that  Mr.  Payson  should 
not  converse  on  religion,  nor  ask  a  blessing  over  his 
food,  nor  offer  a  prayer  in  his  house.  He  collected  his 
forces  and  made  his  preparation  in  conformity  with 
this  purpose,  and  when  the  appointed  day  arrived,  re- 
ceived his  guests  very  pleasantly,  and  entered  at  once 
into  animated  conversation,  determined,  by  obtruding 
his  own  favorite  topics,  to  forestall  the  divine.    It  was 


EDWAKD    PAYSON.  307 

not  long  before  the  latter  discovered  his  object,  and 
summoned  together  his  powers  to  defeat  it.  He  plied 
them  with  that  skill  ajid  address  f(3r  which  he  was  re- 
markable ;  still,  for  some  time  victory  inclined  to  nei- 
ther side,  or  to  both  alternately.  The  lawyer  not  long 
before  had  returned  from  Washington  city,  where  he 
had  spent  several  weeks  on  business  at  the  supreme 
court  of  the  United  States.  Mr.  Payson  instituted 
some  inquiries  respecting  sundry  personages  there, 
and  among  others,  the  chaplain  of  the  house  of  repre- 
sentatives. The  counselor  had  heard  him  perform 
the  devotional  services  in  that  assembly.  "  How  did 
you  like  him  ?"  "  Not  at  all ;  he  appeared  to  have 
more  regard  to  those  around  him  than  he  did  to  his 
Maker."  Mr.  Payson  was  very  happy  to  see  him  re- 
cognise the  distinction  between  praying  to  God  and 
praying  to  be  heard  of  men,  and  let  fall  a  series  oi 
weighty  observations  on  prayer,  passing  into  a  strain 
of  remark  which,  without  taking  the  form,  had  all  the 
etfect  on  the  lawyer's  conscience  of  a  personal  appli- 
cation. From  a  topic  so  umvelcome  he  strove  to  divert 
the  conversation,  and  every  few  minutes  would  start 
something  as  wide  from  it  as  the  east  is  from  the  west. 
But,  as  often  as  he  wandered,  his  guest  Avould  dexte- 
rously and  without  violence  bring  him  back ;  and  as 
often  as  he  was  brought  back  he  would  wander  again. 
At  length  the  trying  moment  which  was  to  turn  the 
scale  arrived.  The  time  for  the  evening  repast  had 
come ;  a  servant  had  entered  with  the  tea  and  its  ac- 
companiments ;  the  master  of  the  feast  became  unu- 
sually eloquent,  resolved  to  engross  the  conversation, 
to  hear  no  question  or  reply,  to  allow  no  interval  for 
"grace,"  and  to  giv<*no  indication  by  the  eye,  the  hand, 


308  MEMOIR    OF 

or  the  lips,  that  he  expected  or  wished  for  such  a  ser- 
vice. Just  as  the  distribution  was  on  the  very  point  ol 
commencing,  Mr.  Payson  interposed  the  question — 
"What  writer  has  said  the  devil  invented  the  fashion 
of  carrying  round  tea,  to  prevent  a  blessing  being 
asked?"  Our  host  felt  himself  "cornered  ;"  but  ma- 
king a  virtue  of  necessity,  promptly  replied — "  I  don't 
know  what  writer  it  is ;  but  if  you  please,  we  will  foil 
the  devil  this  time:  Will  you  ask  a  blessing,  sir?" 
A  blessing  of  course  was  asked,  and  he  brooked  as 
well  as  he  could  this  first  certain  defeat,  still  resolved 
not  to  sustain  another  by  the  offering,  of  thanks  on 
closing  the  repast.  But  in  this  too  he  was  disappoint- 
ed. By  some  well-timed  sentiment  of  his  reverend 
guest  he  was  brought  into  such  a  dilemma  that  he 
could  not,  without  absolute  rudeness,  decline  asking 
him  to  return  thanks.  And  thus  he  contested  every 
inch  of  his  ground  till  the  visit  terminated.  But  .at 
every  stage  the  minister  proved  too  much  for  the  law- 
yer. He  sustained  his  character  as  a  minister  of  reli- 
gion, and  gained  his  point  in  every  thing ;  and  that, 
too,  with  so  admirable  a  tact,  in  a  way  so  natural  and 
unconstrained,  and  with  such  respectful  deference  to 
his  host,  that  the  latter  could  not  be  displeased,  except 
with  himself.  Mr.  Payson  not  only  acknowledged  God 
on  the  reception  of  food,  but  read  the  Scriptures  and 
prayed  before  separating  from  the  family — and  did  it, 
too,  at  the  request  of  the  master,  though  this  request 
was  made,  in  every  successive  instance,  in  violation  of 
a  fixed  purpose.  The  chagrin  of  this  disappointment, 
however,  eventually  became  the  occasion  of  his  great- 
est joy.  His  mind  was  never  entirely  at  ease  till  he 
found  peace  in  believing.     Often  •did  he  revert,  with 


EDWARD    PAY30N.  309 

devout  thankfulness  to  God,  to  the  visit  which  had  oc- 
casioned his  mortification ;  and  ever  after  regarded 
v.'ith  more  than  common  veneration  and  respect  the 
servant  of  God  whom  he  had  once  despised,  and  was 
glad  to  receive  his  ministrations  in  exchange  for  those 
on  Avhich  he  had  formerly  attended. 

His  knowledge  was  not,  as  many  have  supposed, 
limited  chiefly  to  theology.  He  was  familiar,  beyond 
what  is  common,  with  the  whole  circle  of  the  sciences 
— so  much  so,  that  eminent  men  of  the  different  pro- 
fessions, who  have  incidentally  met  Avith  him  with- 
out knowing  who  he  was,  have,  for  the  first  half  hour 
of  their  conversation,  mistaken  him  for  one  of  their 
own  class.  By  physicians  he  has  been  thought  a 
physician,  and  a  lawyer  by  lawyers  ;  and  even  the 
experienced  senator  has  found  him  an  invincible 
antagonist  on  ground  which  his  profession  merely 
would  not  require  him  to  assume. 

He  never  ceased  to  add  to  his  stock  of  knowledge; 
and  his  intelligent  manner  of  conversing,  on  any  topic 
whatever,  would  excite  less  of  wonder,  if  the  amount 
of  his  reading  were  known.  He  was  a  subscriber  for 
Rees's  Cyclopedia,  and  read  the  numbers  generally 
throughout  as  they  successively  issued  from  the  press. 

He  has  been  reputed  a  great  novel  reader ;  but  this 
report,  as  it  would  be  naturally  understood,  misrepre- 
sents him.  He  expended  little  money  or  time  on 
books  of  this  class  after  having  turned  his  attention 
to  the  ministry.  He  knew  something  of  every  ficti- 
tious work  which  was  introduced  into  the  place ;  but 
this  knowledge  was  gained  perhaps  in  an  hour's 
time,  in  some  retired  corner  of  a  book-store  which 
was  kept  by  one  of  his  congregation.     He  had  good 


310  MEMOIR    OF 

reasons  for  knowing  what  kind  of  books  circulated 
among  his  people,  and  especially  if  any  of  them  were 
immoral  in  their  tendency.  If  he  read  them  on  his 
own  account,  it  was  for  mere  relaxation,  from  which 
his  vigorous  and  well-balanced  mind  derived  strength 
and  freshness  for  more  solid  pursuits. 

His  own  views  of  a  proper  course  of  reading  to  be 
pursued  by  a  Christian  were  once  given  extempore  in 
conversation,  from  which  it  will  be  seen  that  novels 
have,  at  most,  but  a  very  dubious  place : 

"  It  may  be  proper,  and  perhaps  advantageous,  for  a 
Christian  to  read  sparingly  works  of  taste.  History 
he  ought  to  read,  and  biography.  Some  knowledge 
of  the  philosophy  of  the  mind  is  desirable,  and  may 
be  obtained  without  very  great  expense  of  time. 
Church  history,  and  a  knowledge  of  ancient  Eastern 
customs,  will  be  very  useful.  Every  kind  of  know- 
ledge which  expands,  strengthens,  and  adorns  the 
mind,  may  be  properly  sought  by  the  Christian,  and 
ought  to  be  sought  by  every  Christian  who  has  leisure 
and  opportunity  for  reading.  Our  aim  in  seeking  it 
should  be  to  qualify  ourselves  to  serve  and  glorify 
God  more  effectually,  and  to  increase  our  power  of 
being  useful  to  our  fellow-creatures.  It  is  an  old  re- 
mark, that  '  knowledge  is  power.'  To  increase  our 
knowledge,  then,  is  to  increase  our  power  of  doing 
good.  Highly  as  I  prize  such  writers  as  Fenelon, 
Kempis,  &c.  I  am  convinced  we  may  study  them,  not 
perhaps  too  much,  but  too  exclusively.  We  may 
study  them  to  the  exclusion  of  other  writers,  whose 
works  demand  our  attention  ;  and  we  may  be  so  in- 
tent upon  watching  our  feelings,  as  to  forget  to  watch 
our  words  and  actions.     As  some  are  content  v\'ith  a 


EDWARD    PAYSOX.  311 

religion  wh.ch  is  all  body,  so  others  may  aim  at  a  re- 
ligion which  is  all  soul ;  but  religion  has  a  body  as 
well  as  a  soul.  If  some  think  it  sufficient  to  cleanse 
the  outside  of  the  cup,  others  may  be  so  much  occu- 
pied in  cleansing  it  Avithin,  as  to  forget  that  it  has  an 
outside.     Both  deserve  attention." 

The  press,  which  is  with  some  their  principal 
means  of  usefulness,  was  very  little  employed  by  Mr, 
Payson.  He  cherished  a  very  lovv'  estimate  of  his 
own  qualities  as  a  writer,  and  could  rarely  be  persuad- 
ed to  submit  a  production  for  publication.  To  a  re- 
quest from  a  maternal  association  in  Boston  for  the 
copy  of  a  sermon  of  a  specified  character,  he  replied — 
"  It  would  gratify  me  exceedingly  to  comply  with  the 
request.  There  is  no  honor,  no  favor  that  God  can 
bestow,  which  I  should  prize  more  highly  than  that 
of  doing  good  with  my  pen — of  leaving  something 
behind  me  to  speak  for  Christ  when  I  am  silent  in 
dust.  But  this  honor  He,  who  distributes  his  gifts  to 
every  man  as  he  will,  does  not  see  fit  to  grant  me. 
My  sermons  will  not  bear  perusal.  I  must  resign  the 
privilege  of  doing  good  with  the  pen  to  those  who  are 
more  able."  He  certainly  undervalued  himself  as  a 
writer,  or  else  the  Christian  public  have  widely  erred  in 
their  estimation  of  the  very  few  publications  to  which 
during  his  life  time  he  consented.  His  discourse,  "  The 
Bible  above  all  price,"  delivered  before  the  Bible  So- 
ciety of  Maine,  in  1814,  was  the  first  which  he  suf- 
fered to  go  to  the  press ;  and  the  myriads  of  copies 
which  have  been  put  in  circulation  show  in  what 
manner  it  is  appreciated.  And  yet,  while  correcting 
the  press,  he  says  of  it — "  It  seemed  so  flat,  I  would 
have  given  any  thing  to  recall  it  from  the  press." 


ii2 


MEMom  or 


The  success  of  this  sermon  is  a  good  comment  on 
the  secret  history  of  its  origin  : 

"3/a7/2,  1814.  Mond.  Was  so  much  exhausted 
that  I  could  scarcely  move.  Made  a  few  visits.  Tried 
to  write  ;  but  felt  that  I  could  as  soon  make  a  world  as 
•write  a  sermon  for  Thursday,  without  special  divine 
assistance. 

'*  uMay  3.  Was  employed  all  the  forenoon  in  pre- 
paring a  sermon  to  be  preached  before  the  Bible  Soci- 
ety. Felt  that  I  was  utterly  incapable  of  it,  and  that, 
if  I  was  enabled  to  write  one,  the  glory  would  not  be 
mine.  Prayed  for  assistance  with  a  strong  hope  of 
obtaining  it.     Made  a  few  visits. 

"il/ai/4.  Was  employed  upon  my  sermon,  and 
was  favored  with  considerable  assistance.  Felt,  1 
hope,  some  thankfulness.  But  all  my  prayers  for  as- 
sistance, as  well  as  my  thankfulness  for  it,  are  so  mix- 
ed with  selfishness  that  they  are  worse  than  nothing. 
In  the  afternoon  attended  the  funeral  of  my  oldest  dea- 
con. Wished  to  be  suitably  affected,  and  to  see  others  so. 
Found  a  large  concourse  of  people  assembled  j  made 
a  few  observations  to  them,  but  was  much  straitened. 

'''May  5.  Completed  my  sermon.  Felt  much  dis- 
satisfied with  it.  Prayed  that  it  might  be  blessed  to 
convey  more  to  the  minds  of  others  than  it  did  to  my 
own.  In  the  evening  preached  ;  a  most  oppressive  air, 
and  I  spoke  with  difficulty.  Concluded,  from  observa- 
tions made  after  meeting,  that  the  sermon  might  have 
done  some  good ;  if  so,  to  God  belongs  all  the  glory, 
and  to  Hira  may  I  be  enabled  to  ascribe  it." 

'•  Portland,  May  24,  1814. 
"  Not  long  after  you  receive  this,  you  may  expect  a 


EDWARD   PAYSON.  313 

letter  in  print ;  that  is  to  say,  a  discourse,  which  I  have 
been  compelled,  sadly  ag'ainst  my  will,  to  give  into 
the  hands  of  the  printer.  It  is  a  discourse  lately  de- 
livered before  the  Bible  Society.  Fifteen  hundred 
copies  were  subscribed  for,  and  a  promise  made  that 
the  profits  should  go  to  purchase  Bibles.  Finding  that 
the  profits  would  be  sufficient  to  purchase  at  least 
one  hundred  and  fifty  Bibles,  I  could  not  in  conscience 
refuse.  So,  as  soon  as  it  comes  from  the  press,  which 
will  be  in  a  very  few  days,  you  will  probably  receive 
one.  Do,  my  dear  parents,  pray,  pray  earnestly  for 
the  poor  orphan,  that  it  may  do  good  in  the  world.  I 
have  never  been  assisted  to  pray  so  much  for  any  one 
sermon  as  this ;  and  that  encouraged  me  to  let  it  see 
the  light.  If  it  never  does  any  other  good,  it  will  be 
the  means  of  giving  the  Bible  to  many  who  would 
otherAvise  remain  without  it." 

A  very  excellent  Thanksgiving  Sermon  was  also 
given  to  the  public  in  1820,  for  a  similar  reason,  viz. 
a  promise,  which  was  amply  fulfilled,  liiat  it  should  be 
made  to  produce  something  for  missionary  purposes. 
His  "  Address  to  Seamen  "*  was  the  next  in  order 
of  his  publications.  The  author  shows  that  he  knew 
his  object,  and  the  way  in  which  he  could  best  accom- 
plish it.  He  was  not  writing  an  oration  for  the  alum- 
ni of  a  college,  nor  an  article  for  a  Quarterly  Review, 
nor  a  '*  pretty  discourse  "  for  a  fashionable  auditory, 
but  an  address  to  seamen.  He  had  enjoyed  more 
than  common  advantages  for  studying  the  character 
of  this  class  of  his  fellow-men,  and  understood  their 
vocabulary  almost  as  well   as  themselves— so  well, 

*  Tract  No.  140. 
M.  P.  27 


314  MEMOIR   OF 

that  an  experienced  sea-captain  was  able  to  detect,  m 
the  whole  address,  but  a  single  nautical  term  whose 
application  involved  a  misconception  of  its  use.  Its 
popularity,  from  the  very  first,  has  been  unrivalled  by 
any  thing  of  its  kind.  Copies  of  it  have  been  multi- 
plied to  an  extent  past  computation.  It  has  been 
translated  into  some  of  the  languages  of  the  old  world, 
and  pretty  extensively  circulated  on  the  coasts  of  the 
Mediterranean,  from  the  press  at  Malta.  And,  if  re- 
port be  true,  some  divines  of  the  mother  country  have 
not  thought  it  disgraceful  to  claim  a  parental  relation 
to  it.  Still  it  was  no  labored  production ;  it  was  hap- 
pily conceived,  but  the  author  does  not  appear  to  have 
laid  himself  out  to  produce  any  thing  very  extraordi- 
nary. It  was  thrown  ofi"  almost  at  a  sitting,  and  at  a 
time  when  he  was  "  encompassed  with  infirmities," 
and  heavily  pressed  by  other  labors.  This  is  evident 
from  his  private  record  : 

"  Oct.  22,  23,  1821.  Very  unwell  these  two  days. 
Could  do  nothing,  though  I  have  four  sermons  to  pre- 
pare this  week.  Was,  for  a  moment,  tempted  to  mur- 
mur ;  but  the  recollection  of  God's  past  kindness  and 
faithfulness  prevented  me,  and  caused  faith  to  revive. 

Oct.  24.  Was  better  to-day,  and  wrote  almost  the 
whole  of  an  address  to  seamen,  to  be  delivered  Sab- 
bath evening.  Felt  some  degree  of  gratitude,  and  re- 
solved never  to  refuse  to  improve  any  opportunity  of 
doing  good  because  I  seemed  not  to  have  time  for  it. 

"  Oct.  25.  Was  furnished  with  a  suitable  text  and 
sermon  for  this  evening  without  much  labor.  How 
graciously  and  wisely  does  God  deal  with  me !  How 
much  I  ought  to  love  and  trust  him !  Tried  to  preach 
my  sermon  to  myself.    Went  to  the  house  of  God  in 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  315 

much  such  a  frame  as  1  should  wish  to  go ;  but  had 
no  assistance  in  preaching,  and  got  through  with  difli- 
culty.  But  felt  satisfied  that  it  should  be  so.  and  was 
enabled  to  rejoice  iu  the  Lord." 

His  mother  once  told  a  friend  that  he  said  to  her, 
''  God  deals  Avith  me  just  as  men  do  with  an  unruly 
horse  ;  they  take  off  the  fetters  for  just  so  long  as  they 
wish  to  use  him,  and  then  put  them  on  again.  I  have 
gone  to  my  Thursday  evening  lecture,  feeling  that  I 
could  not,  and  that  I  was  such  a  sinner  that  I  ought 
not  to  say  a  word  :  and  expecting,  after  the  introduc- 
tory exercises,  to  rise,  give  this  information,  and  dis- 
miss the  assembly  :  but,  before  the  close  of  the  second 
singing,  a  subject  has  opened  to  me,  and  filled  my 
heart,  so  that  all  I  had  to  do  was  to  contract  it  Avithin 
the  limits  of  an  hour." 

"  Oct.  26.  Was  assisted  to-day  in  writing,  and  had 
a  precious  season  in  prayer. 

"  Oct.  27.  Sick  to-day — a  violent  head-ache,  with 
some  fever.  Did  not  see  how  I  could  complete  my 
preparation  for  to-morrow,  but  felt  satisfied  and  easy. 
Saw  it  was  best  I  should  have  some  rebuff;  took  cou- 
rage from  it,  and  hope  that  God  meant  to  bless  my 
labors  to-morrow.  In  the  evening  wrote  considerable, 
notwithstanding  my  head-ache ;  and,  after  I  retired, 
was  almost  painfully  happy,  rejoicing  in  God  with  joy 
unspeakable  and  full  of  glory. 

''  Oct.  28.  Sab.  Some  better  this  morning.  Fin- 
ished a  sermon  for  the  afternoon,  on  increasing  in  the 
knowledge  of  God.  Was  almost  insupportably  happy, 
and  could  hardly  refrain  from  shouting  aloud  for  joy. 
Was  assisted  in  praying  for  others ;  yet  had  no  assist- 
ance in  public  prayer  or  preaching.     In  the  evening 


316  MEMOIR    OF 

preached  to  seamen — an  overflowing  house ;  aisles 
and  pulpit  stairs  full,  and  hundreds  went  away  who 
could  not  get  in.  Was  enabled  to  go  through  tolerably. 
As  soon  as  I  came  down  AV'as  beset  so  importunately 
for  a  copy  for  the  press  that  I  could  not  refuse." 

'•  Portland,  Nov.  25,  1S21. 

"My  Address  to  Seamen  is  published,  and  I  shall 
send  you  one  with  this.  They  have  printed  nine  thou- 
sand copies ;  three  thousand  in  the  sermon  form,  and 
six  thousand  in  the  form  of  a  tract.  They  mean  to  send 
them  to  every  sea-port  in  the  United  States.  I  know 
you  will  pray  that  a  blessing  may  go  with  it.  It  pro- 
duced a  great  effect  upon  seamen  and  others  for  a  time ; 
but  I  do  not  know  that  any  have  been  really  awakened 
by  it.  One  hundred  and  forty  sailors  applied  the  next 
day  for  Bibles,  most  of  whom  paid  for  them.  I  could 
not  but  wonder  to  see  God  w^ork  by  it.  I  had  only  ten 
days'  notice,  and  during  that  time  had  to  prepare  and 
preach  six  sermons,  besides  the  Address,  and  another 
sermon  which  I  did  not  preach." 

'•'  December  26. 

"If  I  do  not  feel  thankful  for  any  other  favor  Avhich 
God  gives  me,  I  do  feel  some  gratitude  when  he  ena- 
bles me  to  do  any  thing  which  gives  pleasure  to  the 
heart  of  my  mother.  If  you  were  dead,  one  half  the 
gratification  I  feel  when  I  publish  any  thing  which  is 
well  received,  would  be  gone.  I  should  also  lose  one 
half  of  my  hopes  that  any  thing  I  publish  will  do  good ; 
for  I  build  my  hopes  very  much  on  your  prayers  for  a 
blessing.  I  suppose  you  or  H.  sent  me  the  Keene  pa- 
per, which  contains  my  Address.  It  has  been  published 


EDWARD    PAYSON,  317 

m  two  Other  papers,  and  in  a  Baptist  Magazine  at  Bos- 
ton :  and  I  have  just  received  a  letter  from  Professor 

P.'s   lady,  at  ,  in  behalf  of  a  number  of  ladies 

there,  who  wish  to  publish  a  large  edition  in  the  form 
of  a  tract.  I  have  requested  our  church  to  pray  that  a 
blessing  may  go  with  it,  and  I  doubt  not  you  will  con- 
tinue to  pray.  If  it  does  any  good,  it  will  be  owing 
to  prayer." 

His  other  publication  Avas  a  sermon,  preached  be- 
fore the  •'  Marine  Bible  Society  of  Boston,"  entitled 
"  The  Oracles  of  God," — a  much  more  labored  pro- 
duction than  either  of  his  other  published  discourses  ; 
and  yet,  for  some  cause,  it  has  been  far  less  popular. 
Besides  these,  he  furnished  one  or  two  manuscript 
sermons  for  the  National  Preacher,  which  appeared 
soon  after  his  decease. 


CHAPTER   XVI. 

His  exertions  without  'the  bounds  of  his  parish — Influence  on 
his  ministerial  associates;  in  resuscitalbi^  and  edifying 
other  churches — Visits  "  The  Springs "' — Effect  of  his  exam- 
ple, conversation,  and  prayers  on  other  xisiiers — Excursions 
in  behalf  of  charitaUe  societies — Translation  of  ministers — 
He  is  invited  to  Boston  and  Nejc-  York. 

It  is  not  easy  to  estimate  the  usefulness  of  a  man 
in  public  life,  whose  numerous  relations  bring  him 
into  contact  with  his  fellow-men  in  a  great  variety  of 
circumstances.     A  minister  of  the  Gospel,  especially 

M.  p.  27* 


318  ME-MOIR    OF 

at  this  day,  is  not  an  insulated  individual,  whose  influ- 
ence is  limited  by  parochial  bounds.  His  presence, 
counsel,  example,  prayers,  give  shape,  tone,  direction, 
energy  to  public  institutions  for  enlightening  the  hu- 
man species,  alleviating  its  sufferings,  and  extending 
the  empire  of  holiness.  It  is,  indeed,  no  slight  honor 
to  be  permitted  to  feed  and  build  up  a  single  branch 
af  the  church  of  God.  To  see  the  number  of  believers 
multiplied,  and  converted  sinners  joining  themselves 
to  the  people  of  God,  as  the  fruit  of  his  labors,  is  an 
adequate  reward  for  the  pastor's  most  arduous  toils, 
and  for  all  the  solicitude  with  which  his  anxious  bo- 
som is  afflicted.  And  yet  the  increase  and  edification 
of  his  own  particular  charge  may  be  only  a  small  part 
of  the  good  which  is  to  be  traced,  more  or  less  directly, 
to  his  instrumentality.  The  many  hundreds  to  whom 
Mr,  Payson's  labors  were  blessed  in  the  place  of  his 
residence,  and  whom  it  was  his  happiness  to  welcome 
to  the  church  under  his  special  supervision,  are  only 
a  part,  and  may  be  found  a  small  part  of  the  gems 
which  will  embellish  his  crown  of  rejoicing  in  the  day 
of  the  Lord.  To  ascertain  the  whole  amount  of  his 
usefulness,  Ave  must  know  the  nature  and  degree  ol 
his  influence  upon  his  fellow-laborers  in  the  ministry 
— the  effect  of  his  occasional  labors  in  diflerent  and 
distant  parts  of  the  country — his  agency  in  raising  the 
tone  of  piety  in  all  the  churches  which  could  be  reach- 
ed by  his  influence,  the  results  of  his  powerful  plead- 
ings in  behalf  of  religious  and  charitable  enterprises, 
of  his  counsel  in  ecclesiastical  concerns,  and  as  one 
of  the  guardians  of  the  principal  seminary  of  learning 
in  Maine — all,  in  short,  that  flowed  from  his  conscien- 
tious and  ever-watchful  regard,  wherever  he  was,  and 


ED'vVAr.D    PAYSON.  319 

with  whomsoever  he  met,  to  the  apostolical  precept — 
"  Consider  one  another,  to  provoke  unto  love  and  to 
good  works." 

His  presence  in  the  ministerial  association  to  which 
he  belonged,  though  often  prevented  by  the  frequent 
recurrence  of  his  agonizing  "  head-ache,"  and  by  du- 
ties at  home  which  he  could  not  dispense  with,  was 
highly  valued  by  his  brethren.  He  was  a  strong  ad 
vocate  for  devoting  the  first  part  of  the  time  occupied 
by  such  meetings  to  social  prayer.  Prayer  was  his 
own  preparation  for  every  duty ;  and  he  felt  it  to  be 
equally  important  that  it  should  be  a  common  prepa- 
ration for  a  social  duty.  When  on  a  council  for  the 
ordination  of  a  minister,  he  was  always  on  the  watch 
for  some  interval  of  time  to  be  consecrated  to  united 
prayer,  with  particular  reference  to  the  occasion  and 
its  consequences.  In  ministers'  meetings,  whether  the 
immediate  object  were  mutual  edification,  or  a  solution 
were  requested  of  cases  of  conscience,  and  other  diffi- 
culties which  often  arise  in  the  discharge  of  the  sacred 
office,  or  trying  cases  of  discipline  were  presented  for 
advisement,  he  was  always  ready  to  speak  in  his  turn, 
and  always  spoke  to  the  purpose.  A  topic  seldom 
passed  him  without  fresh  elucidation.  Any  proposi- 
tion which  bore  the  least  trace  of  a  time-serving  policy, 
or  mere  worldly  wisdom,  he  would  instantly  discoun- 
tenan*ce.  The  writer  has  knoAvn  him  to  do  this,  at 
once  and  effectually,  by  a  very  few  words  of  his  own, 
pointed  with  one  of  Witherspoon's  "  Characteristics." 

He  occasionally  performed  services  for  other  con- 
gregations, of  most  auspicious  bearing  on  the  cause 
of  religion  ;  services  which  thousands  have  regretted 
that  his  health  and  engagements  would  not  pennit 


320  MEMOIR  OF 

him  to  repeat.    The  nature  of  the  services  alluded  tc 
will  be  seen  by  an  extract: 

"  Portland,  Jan.  7,  1814. 
"  My  dear  Mother, 

"  Not  long  after  your  return  I  went  to ,  a  town 

about  forty  miles  from  this,  on  a  week's  missionary 
excursion.  They  are  in  a  wretched  state — have  had 
no  settled  minister  for  seven  years.  The  only  minis- 
ter they  ever  had,  proved  an  intemperate  man.  He  is 
still  living  in  the  place,  and  does  all  he  can  to  preju- 
dice the  people  against  the  Gospel  and  all  who  preach 
it.  Before  I  proceed  I  must  take  a  little  shame  to  my- 
self, that  God's  goodness  may  appear  more  conspicu- 
ous. I  commenced  my  ride  by  going  to  G.  to  obtain 
Mr.  H.  to  preach  for  me  during  my  absence.  The 
next  morning  it  stormed  violently  ;  then  I  began  to  re- 
pent of  my  undertaking.  However,  I  was  ashamed  to 
go  back ;  so  on  I  went  in  the  storm.  I  was  tolerably 
good-natured  the  first  part  of  the  day,  but  the  storm 
and  the  road  grew  worse  and  worse.  First  it  was  all 
mire  and  clay,  then  nothing  but  hills  and  stones.  I 
began  to  grow  cross.  Every  bad  jolt  made  me  worse, 
till  I  felt  as  bad  as  Jonah  did,  and  was  ready  to  say 
with  him — 'I  do  well  to  be  angry.'  Being  in  this 
^rame,  I  concluded,  of  course,  that  I  should  do  no  good, 
<^'ished  myself  at  home  a  thousand  times,  and»more 
than  half  resolved  that  I  would  never  have  any  thing 
to  do  with  a  missionary  tour  again.  However,  I  ar- 
rived safe,  and  began  my  labors,  and  soon  found  that  I 
was  not  laboring  alone.  I  cannot  go  into  particulars. 
Suffice  it  to  say,  that  in  no  place,  not  even  in  Port- 
land, have  I  ever  seen  so  much  of  God's  power  dis- 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  321 

played,  in  the  same  space  of  time,  as  during  the  six 

days  I  spent  in .    I  preached  six  times,  and  made 

between  forty  and  fifty  family  visits.  Many  were 
awakened — almost  all  were  solemn.  One  old  man  of 
serenty,  among  the  wealthiest  in  the  place,  who  has 
always  been  against  doing  any  thing  towards  the  set- 
tlement of  a  minister,  was  very  deeply  impressed,  and 
has  promised  to  give  three  hundred  dollars  towards  a 
fund.  Two  others  will  give  three  hundred  more  each. 
I  was  obliged  to  return  home  on  account  of  church 
fast  and  communion ;  but  they  have  sent  for  me  to 
come  up  again,  and  next  week,  Providence  permit- 
ting, I  shall  go.  Thus  was  I  shamed  and  confounded 
by  God''s  goodness.  But  this  is  not  all.  I  came  home 
thoroughly  drenched  by  the  shower  of  divine  influen- 
ces which  began  to  fall  at ,  and  soon  found  that 

the  cloud  had  followed  me  and  was  beginning  to  pour 
itself  down  upon  my  people.  Instead  of  a  fast,  we  ap- 
pointed a  season  of  thanksgiving.  A  blessing  seemed 
to  follow  it.  I  then  invited  the  young  men  to  come  to 
my  house  on  Sabbath  evening  for  religious  purposes. 
The  church  thought  none  w*ould  come.  I  expected 
twenty  at  most.  The  first  evening,  forty  came  ;  the 
second,  sixty ;  and  the  third,  seventy.  This  was  last 
Sabbath.  Six  stopped,  after  the  rest  Avere  dismissed, 
to  converse  more  particularly  respecting  divine  things. 
About  thirty  persons  are  known  to  be  seriously  in- 
quiring, and  there  is  every  appearance  that  the  work 
is  spreading.  Meanwhile  I  am  so  ashamed,  so  re- 
joiced, and  so  astonished  to  see  what  God  is  doing, 
that  I  can  scarcely  get  an  hour's  sleep." 

No  account  of  his  second  visit  has  been  preserved. 
The  hopes,  however,  Avhich  had  been  excited  by  hi| 


322  MEMOIR    OF 

first,  were  not  disappointed.  The  cliange  which  then 
commenced,  prevailed,  and  was  permanent.  In  the 
following  spring,  a  candidate  Avho  had  completed  his 
preparation  for  the  ministry  under  Mr.  Payson's  in- 
struction, visited  the  plaoc,  and  during  his  first  week 
"  found  ten  persons  who  entertained  a  hope,,and  heard 
of  others ;  and  in  sixteen  families  whom  he  visited, 
more  or  less  were  inquiring,  and,  in  some  instances, 
whole  families.  Religion  was  almost  exclusively  the 
topic  of  conversation,  and  all  appeared  solemn.  The 
subscriptions  to  a  fund  for  the  support  of  a  minister 
amounted  to  three  or  four  thousand  dollars."  Thi^ 
young  preacher  soon  became  the  minister  of  the  place, 
where  he  still  remains,  a  useful  laborer  in  the  vine- 
yard of  Christ.  Such  were  the  results  of  one  short 
missionary  excursion. 

About  three  years  later,  by  particular  request,  he 
spent  a  week  in  another  town,  where  some  religious 
attention  had  commenced.  It  was  a  season  of  great 
solemnity.  At  his  suggestion  the  church  assembled 
and  renewed  their  covenant,  whose  bonds  for  a  long 
time  had  been  but  little  felt.  Their  pastor  led  the 
way  by  acknowledging  his  deficiencies,  and  then  im- 
ploring forgiveness  and  strength  for  time  to  come,  re- 
newed his  engagements  to  the  Lord  and  to  his  people. 
His  wife  followed  his  example,  and  was  succeeded  by 
the  members  of  the  church.  During  this  visit  Mr. 
Payson  preached  thirteen  sermons,  besides  attending 
the  less  public  meetings  and  conversing  with  inquirers 
and  the  impenitent ;  and  yet  he  was  scarcely  sensible 
of  fatigue  till  he  left  the  spot.  He  "was  so  happy 
that  he  thought  he  might  have  exerted  himself  till  he 
expired,  without  knowing  that  he  needed  rest."    Of 


fenWARD    PAYSON.  323 

five  persons,  the  fruits  of  this  revival,  who  were  pro- 
pounded to  the  church  at  one  time,  four  were  above 
seventy  years  of  age. 

A  service  not  very  dissimilar  in  kind  he  once  per- 
formed for  several  churches  in  his  own  neighborhood, 
as  one  of  a  committee  of  the  Cumberland  conference, 
much  to  their  acceptance,  and,  it  is  hoped,  to  their  spi- 
ritual advantage. 

During  his  public  life  ]\Ir.  Payson  made  several 
journeys  to  the  springs  at  Ballston  and  Saratoga,  for 
the  recovery  of  his  wasted  health.  The  mixed  charac- 
ters collected  together  at  this  place  of  fashionable  re- 
Rort,  found  him  the  judicious  and  earnest  advocate  of 
his  Master's  cause.  Here  he  was  no  less  bent  on  the 
ruling  purpose  of  his  heart  than  when  at  home  among 
his  own  favorite  flock.  A  visiter  from  another  state, 
who  took  lodgings  in  the  same  house  Avith  himself, 
and  preserved  some  of  his  remarks  and  topics  of  dis- 
course, testifies  that  it  was  Mr.  Payson's  usual  prac- 
tice, in  the  evening,  to  read  the  Scriptures  at  a  stated 
hour,  and  ofier  prayer,  which  wa:5  attended  by  most  of 
the  family  and  boarders,  and  to  spend  a  half  hour 
after  prayer  in  religious  conversation  with  all  who 
were  disposed  to  remain.  He  always  found  many 
willing  to  hear,  and  the  number  continually  increased. 
He  observed  to  the  visiter  above  alluded  to,  that  the 
time  spent  at  the  springs  would  not  appear  so  much 
like  a  blank  if  he  should  be  permitted  to  do  any  thing 
for  the  cause  of  Christ.  This  privilege  was  granted 
him ;  for  many  left  that  boarding-house  with  deep  re- 
ligious impressions,  produced  through  his  instrumen- 
tality. One  young  man  who  had  resolved  on  finding 
new  lodgings,  because  there  was  "so  much  praying" 


S24  MEMOIR  or 

where  he  was,  became  the  subject  of  deep  convicfron 
the  Tery  evening  he  expressed  such  a  determination. 
The  2:entleman  on  v.hose  authority  these  facts  are 
stated,  observes  of  liis  prayers — "  They  contain  a 
great  deal  of  instruction  as  well  as  devotion.  He  has 
a  happy  faculty  of  making  his  prayers  preach?^  Yet, 
while  his  conversation  and  prayers  were  so  impressive 
and  so  full  of  instruction  to  others,  he  mourns  over  his 
own  dullness,  as  though  ''the  Avaters  had  washed  every 
idea  out  of  his  head,  and  every  feeling  out  of  his  heart. "' 

The  events  alluded  to  in  the  foregoing  paragraph,  oc- 
curred in  1815.  Of  the  impression  produced  by  a  sub- 
sequent visit,  some  idea  may  be  formed  from  the  fol- 
lowing letter  addressed  to  the  compiler: 

"  On  his  way  to  Niagara,  Dr.  Payson  called  at 

my  house,  purposing  to  rest  awhile  and  try  the  benefit 
of  the  waters.  I  had  heard  much  of  this  excellent  man^ 
but  never  saw  him  till  this  time ;  and  the  impression 
he  made  on  my  mind  at  this  first  interview  will  not 
soon  be  forgotten.  1  was  struck  with  the  perfect  sim- 
plicity and  great  dignity  of  his  manners.  His  counte- 
nance was  '  care-worn.'  and  he  had  the  appearance  of 
one  sinking  under  the  load  of  human  infirmities,  and 
sighing  for  rest, 

*  *  *  * 

*'  Speaking  of  his  trials  on  one  occasion,  he  observed 
to  me — '  I  have  needed,  all  along,  to  be  under  the  dis- 
cipline of  Heaven ;  for  nothing  else  could  have  kept 
rac  humble,  and  saved  me  from  perdition.  I  have  ever 
been  prone  to  depart  from  God,  and  have  been  kept 
only  by  a  constant  effort  of  his  love.  It  seems  to  me,  if 
God  had  not  continually  held  the  rod  over  me,  and 
hedged  up  my  way,  I  should  have  escaped  from  his 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  325 

hands,  and  been  forever  separated  from  his  love.'  I 
expected,  in  answer  to  my  inquiries,  to  hear  of  the  vic- 
tories of  his  faith  ;  but  he  spoke  only  of  the  wonderful 
power  of  God  which  had  kept  him,  and  of  his  love  to 
one  so  unworthy  and  perverse.  He  spoke  of  his  '  fierce 
temptations,'  and  how  he  had  been  delivered  by  the  mere 
mercy  of  God,  and  wondered  that  God  should  concern 
himself  about  such  a  worm,  and  that  he  did  not  leave 
him  to  be  torn  and  devoured  by  Satan.  In  all  my  con- 
versations with  him,  I  never  heard  him  utter  a  word 
that  bordered  on  boasting,  or  savored  of  pride ;  but  he 
seemed  to  have  a  surprising  sense  of  his  own  unwor- 
thiness,  and  of  the  amazing  love  of  God  in  making  him- 
self known  to  him,  and  giving  him  a  hope  in  his  mercy. 

"Among  the  virtues  of  his  character,  that  of  humi- 
lity appeared  eminently  beautiful  and  lovely,  and 
shone  in  his  whole  deportment.  In  prayer,  his  soul 
lay  low  before  God.  He  frequently  took  part  in  family 
devotion,  and  here  he  excelled  all  the  men  I  ever 
heard.  He  carried  us  up  and  placed  us  all  in  the  di- 
vine presence  ;  and  when  he  spread  forth  his  hands  to 
God,  heaven  seemed  to  come  down  to  earth,  and  the 
glory  of  the  Lord  shone  around  our  tabernacle.  He 
knew  our  wants,  and  he  expressed  them  in  language 
simple  and  affecting.  He  knew  our  miseries,  and  he 
told  them  all  in  such  tones  of  tenderness  and  sympa- 
thy as  made  us  feel  that  a  friend  was  pleading  our 
cause.  While  this  holy  man  has  talked  with  God,  and 
seemed  to  be  overshadowed  with  the  divine  glory,  I 
have  sometimes  thought  I  could  imagine  what  must 
have  been  the  ecstacy  of  Peter  when  surrounded  with 
the  glories  of  the  transfiguration  scene.  At  these  so- 
lemn seasons,  when  our  brother  has  been  pouring  out 

M.  p.  28 


dZO  MEMOIR    OF 

his  heart  in  deep  complaints  of  sin,  and  in  fervent  pe- 
titions for  mercy,  it  has  seemed  as  though  the  cloud 
of  the  divine  presence  covered  the  household,  and  the 
divine  Majesty  was  very  near  us. 

"  In  the  bosom  of  a  private  family  Dr.  Payson  hoped 
to  escape  notice,  and  find  rest  from  the  vexations  of  com- 
pany.   But  he  could  not  be  long  concealed  ;  his  retreat 
was  soon  discovered,  and  visiters  thronged  to  see  him. 
"  Our  domestic  circle  Avas  often  enlivened  by  the 
presence  and  the  conversation  of  Dr.  Payson.    The 
children  Avere  not  unnoticed  by  him,  but  shared  large- 
ly in  his  attentions ;  and  he  seemed  to  take  delight  in 
sharing  the  toils  of  the  nursery.    Often  would  he  take 
the  child  from  the  arms  of  its  mother  and  carry  it  for 
hours  together,  and  sing  some  little  air  to  divert  it. 
His  conversations  were,  for  the  most  part,  of  a  reli- 
gious cast,  and  the  strains  of  the  mourning  prophet  suit- 
ed him  best.   Yet  ljw  and  then  would  he  dwell  on  the 
sublime  and  animating  themes  of  religion  ;  and  when 
he  began  on  an  exalted  strain,  he  was  surpassingly 
eloquent  and  instructive.  He  Avould  seize  hold  of  some 
thought,  and  pursue  it  until  it  expanded  and  glowed 
under  the  splendor  of  his  imagery.    On  one  occasion 
he  spoke  of  the  probable  condition  of  the  soul  of  the 
believer  when  dying.  At  this  awful  period,  Avhen  gasp- 
ing in  the  agonies  of  death,  and  apparently  insensible 
to  every  thing  around  him,  he  supposed  the  world  to 
be  Avholly  shut  out ;  and  in  this  condition,  while  friends 
stand  around  and  tremble  to  think  of  the  unknown 
agonies  he  may  be  enduring,  he  supposes  the  light  of 
God's  countenance  is  pouring  in  upon  the  soul,  ren- 
dering him  insensible  to  all  his  pains,  and  the  soul  is 
struggling  and  panting  to  escape  from  the  crumbling 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  327 

tenement,  and  be  at  rest  in  the  bosom  of  God.  I  can 
only  give  you  the  idea ;  it  is  impossible  to  reach  his 
description.  He  seemed  to  dwell  in  a  spiritual  world, 
and  to  be  most  conversant  with  spiritual  objects.  This 
he  manifested  'by  pureness,  by  knowledge,  by  love  un- 
feigned.' He  talked  about  death  as  we  would  talk  about 
going  from  one  place  to  another ;  and,  if  any  might 
adopt  the  language  of  Watts,  much  more  might  he : 

*  Receive  my  clay,  thou  treasurer  of  death; 
'I  will  no  more  demand  my  tongue 

*  Till  the  gross  organ,  well  refined, 

'  Shall  trace  the  boundless  flights  of  an  unfettered  mind, 
'And  raise  an  equal  song.' 

"  I  add  no  more;  only  that  the  visit  of  Dr.  Pay  son  at 
my  house  left  this  impression  upon  our  minds — 7wt  to 
be  forgetful  to  entertain  strangers  ;  for  thereby  some 
have  entertained  angels  unawares.  S.  W.  W." 

A  short  passage  from  a  letter  of  condolence,  ad- 
dressed to  Mrs.  Payson  by  a  friend  in  Connecticut, 
will  probably  express  the  common  sentiment  of  the 
many  thousands  who  have  listened  to  him  whether  for 
a  few  moments  only  or  for  hours  : 

"  I  remember  with  most  deep  and  interesting  im- 
pression, my  last  interview  with  your  beloved  and  ever 
to  be  lamented  husband.  It  was  during  a  delightful 
ride  of  five  or  six  miles,  on  the  borders  of  Farmington 
river.  Never  had  I  heard  such  discourse  from  the  lips 
of  man — never  had  such  an  interview  with  a  mortal. 
Even  then  he  seemed  like  a  pure  spirit  from  another 
world.  Such  words  of  wisdom  1  and  such  heavenly 
affections  !  I  cannot  efface  the  impression  from  my 
mind." 


328  MEMOIR    OF 

The  compiler  has  taken  much  pains  to  procure  from 
companions  of  his  journey  some  of  the  striking  obser- 
vations which  were  drawn  from  him  by  the  natural 
scenery  that  he  witnessed,  by  the  various  characters 
with  whom  he  met,  and  the  circumstances  in  which, 
at  different  times,  he  found  himself.  But  his  attempts, 
even  with  those  from  Avhom  he  had  the  greatest  rea- 
son to  expect  full  and  satisfactory  replies,  have  been 
utterly  fruitless.  The  general  impression  produced  by 
his  occasional  conversation  has  been  very  strong  and 
deep,  and  the  effect  powerful  and  abiding  ;  but  no  one 
has  ventured  to  report  particulars.  The  words,  and,  of 
course,  the  precise  sentiments,  with  numerous  circum- 
stances which  rendered  them  peculiarly  seasonable, 
"  like  apples  of  gold  in  pictures  of  silver,"  are  lost  be- 
yond recovery,  while  their  effect  remains.  The  im- 
pulse which  he  gave  to  other  minds  still  keeps  them 
in  action,  and  is  still  transmitted  from  mind  to  mind, 
while  it  is  impossible  for  them  to  tell  how  this  impulse 
was  first  imparted.  The  pleasure  and  the  benefit  re- 
main, though  the  exciting  cause  has  disappeared.  So 
absorbed  have  persons  been  with  the  effect,  as  to  lose 
all  distinct  recollection  of  the  means  employed  in  pro- 
ducing it.  This  corresponds  with  the  writer's  expe- 
rience. At  the  first  visit  which  he  ever  received  from 
Dr.  Payson,  some  allusion  was  made  to  the  opinion 
which  prevails  among  Christians  in  common  life,  that 
ministers  are  in  a  situation  peculiarly  favorable  to  re- 
ligious enjoyment,  because  their  profession  leads  them 
to  be  incessantly  conversant  with  divine  truth.  "  This," 
said  Mr.  Payson,  "  is  just  as  if  a  hungry  man,  on  en- 
tering the  kitchen  of  a  large  victualling-house,  and  in- 
haling the  savory  odor  of  the  various  dishes  of  rich 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  329 

food,  hot  from  tlie  fire  and  the  oven,  with  which  the 
busy  laborers  were  loading  the  tables,  should  exclaim, 
'  What  a  blessed  time  these  cooks  have  !"  During  the 
interview  he  uttered  enough  to  make  a  valuable  pam- 
phlet ;  and  yet  this  one  comparison  is  all  that  can  be 
related  with  even  tolerable  justice  to  him. 

He  had  repeated  applications  from  the  directors  of 
the  principal  charitable  societies  of  the  country  to 
take  journeys  and  collect  funds  for  their  respective 
operations.  Of  the  first  of  these  applications  he  says — 
"  I  dislike  begging,  and  therefore  thought  I  must  go ; 
but  the  hopes  of  a  revival  pulled  me  back."  He,  how- 
ever, soon  after  "  made  a  beginning  by  visiting  a  few 
towns,  the  result  of  which  did  not  encourage  him  to 
proceed.  He  was  brought  into  circumstances  which 
rendered  it  necessary  to  preach  ten  times  in  eight 
days ;"  which,  added  to  the  fatigue  of  riding  a  great 
distance,  proved  too  much  for  his  strength,  and  com- 
pelled him  to  relinquish  the  undertaking. 

In  the  early  part  of  1819  he  made  a  tour,  confined 
chiefly  to  Essex  county,  Mass.  in  behalf  of  the  Ame- 
rican Education  Society.  His  success  in  collecting 
money,  though  as  great,  probably,  as  his  employers 
had  any  reason  to  anticipate,  did  not  equal  his  own 
wishes.  It  was  no  slight  trial,  "  after  preaching  till 
he  was  half  dead,  to  find  only  a  few  dollars  contribu- 
ted, and  then  be  obliged  to  retire,  and  lie  awake, 
brooding  over  his  ill  success  half  the  night."  His 
actual  receipts,  however,  constituted  but  a  small  part 
of  the  advantage  which  the  society  realized  as  the 
consequence  of  his  excursion.  By  such  an  advo- 
cate its  objects  and  its  claims  were  favorably  made 
known  to  the  community;  auxiliary  societies   were 

M.  P.  28* 


330  MEMOra    OF 

formed,  and  promises  obtained  from  individuals  of 
large  donations.  The  amount  of  good  which  he  ac- 
complished on  this  journey  cannot  be  estimated  by 
dollars  and  cents.  To  obtain  money  was  with  him, 
now  and  at  all  times,  a  very  subordinate  object.  It  was 
his  great  desire  to  exert  an  influence  favorable  to  the 
spiritual  welfare  of  ministers  and  churches  whom  he 
visited.  "  I  labored  as  directly  as  I  dared,  to  per- 
suade all  the  ministers  where  I  Vv'ent  to  expect  a  re- 
vival, and  talked  to  them  in  my  way  about  Christ." 
His  unusual  manner  of  conversing  attracted  attention, 
and  opened  to  his  brethren  new  ways  of  awakening 
interest  in  the  subject  of  Christ  and  his  salvation. 
His  prayers  produced  the  same  impression  which 
they  always  had  on  strangers.  An  aged  minister  no- 
ticed the  same  quality  in  his  prayers,  as  did  the  lay 
visiter  at  the  Springs.  He  remarked,  after  hearing 
them,  that  prayer  might  be  made  as  instructive  as 
preaching;  and  wrote  to  a  son  in  the  ministry  to 
have  Mr.  Payson  preach  for  him  by  all  means,  and 
especially  to  pray. 

Mr.  Payson's  excursions  from  time  to  time,  for  the 
benefit  of  his  health,  Avere  the  means  of  making  him 
personally  known  in  several  of  our  southern  cities,  as 
well  as  in  New  England  and  New-York,  and  conse- 
quently of  extending  that  pious  influence,  which  he 
ever  exerted,  to  the  farthest  boundaries  of  our  land. 

There  is  nothing  more  true  in  theory,  than  that  a 
ministtr  is  tiie  common  property  of  the  church  at 
large,  rather  than  of  any  particular  portion  of  it,  and 
that  she  has  a  right  to  his  services  in  that  place  which 
will  afford  the  widest  scope  for  the  effectual  and  use- 
ful employment  of  his  peculiar  talents  and  qualifica- 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  331 

tions.  But  various  causes  render  the  principal  one 
of  most  difficult  application.  Some  unhappy  conse- 
quences, perhaps,  never  fail  to  follow  the  transfer  of  a 
minister  from  one  church  to  another ;  and  no  slight 
probability  of  increased  usefulness  can  justify  such 
removal.  In  order  that  such  a  change  may  bring  any 
gain  to  the  church  general,  a  minister  must  do  much 
more  good  in  his  new  situation  than  he  did  in  that 
which  he  left;  for  it  will  require  much  to  balance  the 
certain  evils  inseparable  from  his  removal.  When  a 
pastor  is  established  in  the  affections  and  confidence 
of  his  flock,  and  is  laboring  with  more  than  ordinary 
zeal  and  success,  any  interference  from  abroad  must 
be  regarded  as  a  hazardous  experiment.  There  may 
be  much  of  selfishness  in  the  refusal  of  a  people  to 
give  up  their  minister;  but  certainly  not  mere  than 
there  is  in  those  who  wish  to  obtain  his  services  at 
their  expense,  and  by  whose  solicitations  their  feel- 
ings are  put  to  the  trial.  Else,  why  does  the  choice 
of  rich  churches  never  fall  upon  any  but  ministers  of 
established  popularity,  or  distinguished  for  their  suc- 
cess ;  while  many  others,  equal,  perhaps  superior,  in 
moral  and  intellectual  worth,  are  placed  over  church- 
es by  whom  their  merits  are  not  appreciated,  and  who 
only  need  a  change  of  situation  to  .take  a  rank  among 
the  most  useful  of  Christ's  ministers  ?  The  ''call"  of 
a  church  to  the  pastor  of  a  sister  church  may  be  the 
call  of  God,  and  it  may  be  the  result  of  caprice,  of 
partiality,  of  pride,  or  other  selfish  passions.  Those 
calls  are  most  entitled  to  consideration,  which  these 
feelings  have  the  least  concern  in  producing.  The 
guardians  of  our  public  seminaries  may  be  supposed, 
from  their  situation,  to  have  no  private  feelings  or 


332  MEMOIR    OF 

partialities  to  gratify  by  their  appointments.  In  oi- 
ilinary  cases  they  can  have  little  inducement  to  act 
for  any  other  than  the  general  good ;  and  that  will 
be  a  dark  day  for  our  land,  when  these  institutions, 
the  nurseries  of  learning  and  religion,  whence  her 
future  pillars  are  to  be  obtained,  shall  be  denied  their 
claim  to  the  most  valuable  men  whom  the  church 
can  furnish. 

Much  disquiet  is  often  produced  in  a  congregation  by 
the  reported  intentions  and  informal  proposals  of  other 
congregations  to  "get  away  their  minister,"  even  when 
this  imprudent  agitation  of  the  subject  does  not  issue 
in  a  formal  invitation.  The  second  church  in  Portland 
had  much  experience  of  this  species  of  trial.  When 
Park-street  Church,  in  Boston,  Avas  left  vacant  by  the 
removal  of  Dr.  Griffin,  Mr.  Payson's  charge  had  un- 
pleasant apprehensions  of  losing  their  beloved  pastor. 
It  is  in  allusion  to  this  time  that  he  says  in  a  letter — 
"  We  have  been  kept  in  a  fever  here  all  this  winter,  by 
perpetual  alarms  from  Boston.  Because  I  do  not  re- 
fuse before  I  am  asked,  and  exclaim  loudly  against 
going,  some  of  my  people  suspect  I  wish  to  go.  ...  I 
wish  '  Boston  folks '  would  be  content  with  being 
'  full  of  notions '  themselves,  and  not  fill  other  people's 
heads  with  them."  It  must  greatly  endear  his  memory 
to  his  surviving  flock  to  learn  from  another  letter  what 
were  his  secret  feelings  in  relation  to  this  matter : — 
"  My  people — I  never  knew  before  how  much  they 
loved  me.  I  am  amazed  to  see  what  an  interest  God 
has  given  me  in  the  affections  of  his  people,  and  even 
of  sinners.  It  would  seem  like  tearing  off  limbs  to 
leave  them.  Indeed  I  see  not  how  it  is  possible,  hu- 
manly speaking,  to  get  away  from  them.     I  have  not 


EDWARD   PAYSON.  333 

yet  been  put  to  the  trial.  No  application  has  yet  been 
made  from  B.  though  much  has  been  said  about  it. 
It  is  very  doubtful  whether  any  will  be  made.  I  feel 
very  easy  about  it  myself,  but  the  church  are  in  great 
tribulation.  Ever  since  it  was  first  talked  of,  I  have 
taken  special  care  to  avoid  every  thing  which  might 
tend,  either  directly  or  indirectly,  to  bring  it  about.  If 
it  comes,  it  shall  be  none  of  my  seeking." 

Several  years  after  this  he  did,  with  the  full  consent 
of  his  people,  take  up  a  temporary  residence  in  Boston, 
and  during  the  few  weeks  which  he  spent  there,  preach- 
ed to  crowded  assemblies,  and  not  without  apparent 
effect.  Though  the  work  which  his  friends  there  laid 
out  for  him  was  too  much  for  his  strength,  he  was 
wearied  with  solicitations  and  entreaties  to  visit  and 
preach  in  the  neighboring  towns ;  so  anxious  were 
those  who  had  once  heard  him  to  secure  for  their  friends 
and  neighbors  a  participation  in  the  same  privilege, 
and  so  confident  were  their  hopes  that  he  would  be 
the  instrument  of  awakening  a  general  concern  for 
the  soul,  wherever  he  should  address  to  men  the  mes- 
sage with  which  he  was  intrusted. 

In  1825,  at  the  organization  of  the  new  church  in 
Hanover-street,  he  was  invited  to  take  the  pastoral 
charge  of  it.  He  referred  the  call  to  his  own  church, 
who  decided  unanimously  that  he  ought  not  to  ac- 
cept it — a  decision  to  which  he  cheerfully  acceded. 

In  January,  1826,  he  received  a  unanimous  call  from 
the  church  in  Cedar-street,  (now  in  Duane-street,) 
New-York,  to  become  their  pastor.  This  call  he 
promptly,  fully,  and  unequivocally  declined.  The 
motives  by  which  he  was  actuated  may  be  seen  from 
a  letter  to  his  mother,  written  a  few  days  afterwards. 


334  MEMOIR   OF 

k  "  Portland,  Jan.  25,  1826. 

"My  dear  Mother, 

"  Before  you  receive  this,  you  will  probably  have 
heard  that  I  have  returned  a  'negative  answer  to  the 
invitation  from  the  Cedar-street  church.  After  refus- 
ing to  accept  the  call  from  Boston,  I  could  not  do 
otherwise.  If  I  had  gone  to  either  place,  I  must  have 
gone  to  Boston ;  for  I  think  the  prospect  of  usefulness 
there  is  greater,  all  things  considered,  than  at  New- 
York.  Besides,  I  never  would  consent  to  become  the 
pastor  of  any  church  whose  members  had  not  heard 
me  preach,  and  become  personally  acquainted  with 
me.  I  have  not  the  least  doubt,  that,  had  I  complied 
with  the  Cedar-street  invitation,  the  first  emotions  of 
the  congregation,  on  hearing  me,  would  have  been 
those  of  bitter  disappointment  and  regret.  It  is 
true  that  a  removal  to  New-York,  were  I  fit  for  the 
place,  would,  on  many  accounts,  have  been  very  gra- 
tifying. I  felt  no  small  inclination  to  go.  I  should 
like  exceedingly  to  be  near  you  and  my  other  rela- 
tions. I  should  also  like  a  milder  climafe  than  this, 
and  I  have  little  doubt  that  it  would  be  beneficial  to 
my  health.  But  a  removal  would  be  death  to  my  re- 
putation in  this  part  of  the  country  ;  I  mean  my  Chris- 
tian reputation  ;  and  what  is  far  worse,  it  would  bring 
great  reproach  upon  religion.  At  present,  my  worst 
enemies,  and  the  worst  enemies  of  religion,  seem  dis- 
posed to  allow  that  I  am  sincere,  upright,  and  unin- 
fluenced by  those  motives  which  govern  worldly- 
minded  men.  But  had  I  gone  to  Boston,  and  much 
more,  should  I  now  go  to  New-York,  they  would  at 
once  triumphantly  exclaim,  'Ah!  they  are  all  alike  j 


EDWARD    TAYSON.  335 

all  governed  by  worldly  motives ;  they  preach  against 
the  loi^e  of  money  and  the  love  of  applause,  but  they 
Avill  gratify  either  of  those  passions  when  a  fair  op- 
portunity offers.'  Now  I  had  much  rather  die  than 
give  them  an  occasion  thus  to  speak  reproachfully. 
It  would  be  overthrowing  all  which  I  have  been  la- 
boring to  build  up.  Indeed  I  can  see  no  reason  why 
God  should  suffer  these  repeated  invitations  to  be 
sent  to  me,  unless  it  be  to  give  me  an  opportunity 
to  show  the  world  that  all  ministers  are  not  ac- 
tuated by  mercenary  or  ambitious  views.  I  have  al- 
ready some  reason  to  believe  that  my  refusal  to  ac- 
cept the  two  calls  has  done  more  to  convince  the  ene- 
mies of  religion  that  there  is  a  reality  in  it,  than  a 
thousand  sermons  would  have  done.  However  this 
may  be,  I  have  done  what  I  thought  to  be  duty.  If  I 
ever  felt  desirous  to  know  the  will  of  God,  and  will- 
ing to  obey  it,  it  has  been  in  reference  to  these  two 
cases.  Could  I  have  had  reason  to  believe  that  it 
was  his  will,  I  would  very  gladly  have  gone  either  to 
Boston  or  to  New-York.  But  at  present  I  believe 
that  it  was  his  will  that  I  should  remain  where  I  am. 
Not  that  I  am  of  any  use  here ;  but  though  I  can  do 
no  good,  I  would  if  possible  avoid  doing  harm." 

But  little  more  than  a  month  elapsed  before  the  in- 
vitation of  the  Cedar-street  church  was  repeated.  Some 
changes  in  his  circumstances  led  him  to  deliberate  for 
a  time,  whether  this  second  invitation  might  not  be 
the  call  of  Providence.  He  considered  the  obstacles 
which  had  opposed  his  removal  as  diminished.  The 
church  in  Hanover-street,  supposing  that  he  might 
possibly  be  deterred  from  complying  v/ith  this  invita- 


336  *iEMOiR  or 

tion  by  the  fact  that  he  had  so  recently  declined  a  call 
from  them,  passed  a  resolve  with  a  vieAv  to  remove 
any  difficulties  which  that  circumstance  might  have 
thrown  in  his  way,  and  wrote  a  letter  urging  him  to 
act  just  as  he  should  if  he  had  never  received  an  invi- 
tation from  them.  This  amounted  very  nearly  to  the 
expression  of  an  opinion  that  it  was  his  duty  to  go.  He 
was  evidently  much  perplexed.  On  the  one  hand,  he 
feared  "  doing  wrong,  and  offending  God  by  running 
before  he  was  sent."  On  the  other  hand,  the  circum- 
stances attending  his  reception  of  the  call  "induced 
him  to  believe  that  it  might  possibly  be  the  call  of 
God ;  and  he  could  not  again  decline  it  until  he  had 
taken  time  for  prayer  and  deliberation."  "  I  have  am- 
ple reason,"  he  writes  to  the  commissioners  who  ten- 
dered the  invitation,  "  to  believe  that  God  placed  me 
in  my  present  situation  5  and  I  must  therefore  be  con- 
vinced that  he  calls  me  away,  before  I  can  consent  to 
leave  it.  That  he  does  call  me  away,  I  am  not  yet 
convinced ;  though  I  admit  it  to  be  possible." 

After  having  been  long  agitated  by  the  perplexing 
question,  it  was  at  length  referred  to  a  council  mutu- 
ally chosen  by  himself  and  his  church.  To  the  coun- 
cil it  proved  almost  as  tedious  and  trying  as  it  had  to 
him.  They  were  reluctant  to  decide  against  his  re- 
moval, thinking  it  possible  that  a  change  of  climate 
and  situation,  together  wi  th  the  diminished  necessity 
of  study,  might  recruit  the  wasted  energies  of  his 
body,  and  prolong,  for  th  e  benefit  of  the  church,  his 
most  valuable  and  useful  1  ife.  On  the  other  hand,  they 
f-jund  difficulties  in  the  v/  ay  of  recommending  his  re- 
moval which  they  were  not  able  to  surmount,  the 
principal  of  which  was  U  is  want  of  a  full  an.l  decided 


EDWARD    PAY30N'.  337 

conviction  of  personal  duty  in  the  case.  They  could, 
therefore,  only  advise,  that,  if  such  should  be  his  con- 
viction, and  he  should  make  it  known  to  his  church, 
they  would  consent  to  part  with  him. 

To  this  state  his  mind  had  nearly  approached,  when 
its  progress  towards  conviction  was  arrested,  and  its 
purpose  changed  by  increased  illness.  Symptoms  of 
pulmonary  affection,  added  to  his  other  maladies,  ex- 
cited apprehensions  that  his  labors  on  earth  were 
nearly  terminated — apprehensions  which,  alas!  proved 
to  be  but  too  well  founded.  In  May  following,  by  the 
advice  of  friends  and  physicians,  he  tried  very  tho- 
roughly the  experiment  of  riding  on  horseback,  by 
making  a  journey  through  the  interior  of  Maine,  New- 
Hampshire,  Massachusetts,  and  Connecticut,  to  New- 
York  city,  and  thence  to  the  Springs,  where  his  mind 
was  disturbed  by  a  third  application  to  take  the  charge 
of  Cedar-street  church,  accompanied  with  most  press-  * 
ing  letters  and  messages  from  clergymen  and  others. 
Though  this  w^as  declined  without  much  hesitation, 
yet,  in  the  excitable  state  of  his  nerves  and  his  uni- 
versal weakness  of  body,  it  was  injurious  to  his  wel- 
fare, and,  combined  with  other  causes,  prevented  his 
deriving  any  benefit  from  his  journey  and  an  absence 
of  tv7o  months. 

"  The  peculiar  trials  of  mind,"'  writes  the  clergyman 
wdtli  whom  he  lodged,  "  which  he  had  passed  through, 
in  consequence  of  the  invitations  he  received  to  New- 
York  and  Boston,  well  nigh  broke  him  down,  as  he 
expressed  it,  and  greatly  aggravated  his  complaints 
and  sufferings  ;  and  he  had  hoped  to  experience  no 
more  trouble  from  this  quarter.  But  no  sooner  was  it 
known  in  New-York  that  he  was  at  the  Springs,  than 

M.  P.  29 


338  MEMOIR    OP 

fresh  overtures  were  sent  to  him. — '  I  wonder,'  said  he, 
'  that  this  people  Avill  thus  pursue  a  dying  man.  I  can- 
not help  them  or  myself.' — I  have  no  doubt,  from  va- 
rious expressions  of  his,  that  the  great  efforts  made  to 
effect  his  translation  to  a  new  field  of  labor,  proved  too 
much  for  his  weak  frame,  and  hastened  his  dissolution." 

The  language  ascribed  to  Mr.  Payson,  in  the  pre- 
ceding extract,  is  descriptive  of  his  own  weakness, 
and  expresses  his  settled  conviction  of  the  desperate 
condition  of  his  health,  and  not  any  intended  censure 
of  the  people  who  were  so  perseveringly  solicitous  to 
secure  his  services.  He  could  fully  appreciate  their 
motives.  But  they  knew  not  how  delicate  and  sus- 
ceptible were  his  feelings  ;  nor  did  they  know  how 
nearly  exhausted  in  him  were  the  springs  of  life. 
Doubtless  their  wishes  had  so  far  affected  their  judg- 
ment, as  to  create  the  confident  expectation  that  a  re- 
moval to  a  new  field  of  action  would  be  the  means  of 
restoring  and  establishing  his  health.  But  it  was  al- 
ready gone  past  recovery. 

In  1821  he  was  requested  by  persons  having  some 
control  in  the  appointment,  to  say  whether  he  would 
accept  a  professorship  in  the  Theological  Seminary  at 
Andover,  if  elected  to  the  office.  But  he  refused  ''  at 
once,  and  positively,  on  the  score  of  not  possessing  the 
requisite  qualifications.  Had  I  been  suitably  qualified, 
I  am  not  certain  that  I  should  not  have  thought  it  my 
duty  to  go." 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  339 

CHAPTER    XVII. 

Letters  to  persons  in  various  circumstances  and  states  of  mind. 

Though  Mr.  Payson  was  eminently  felicitous  in 
adapting  his  public  discourses  to  the  wants  and  cha- 
racters of  a  promiscuous  assembly,  he  was,  if  possible, 
still  more  so,  in  suiting  his  counsels,  instructions,  and 
appeals,  to  the  cases  of  individuals.  But  these  dic- 
tates of  his  sanctified  understanding  and  ardently  af- 
fectionate heart  are  mostly  lost ;  and  their  place  can 
be  supplied  only  by  a  selection  from  his  letters,  writ- 
ten to  persons  variously  situated  and  affected — which, 
though  both  interesting  and  instructive,  are  far  inferi- 
or in  imagery,  appositeness,  and  effect,  to  his  viva  voce 
instructions. 

To  his  mother  under  affliction  of  spirit 

"  My  dearest  Mother, 

"  Never  did  I  more  ardently  wish  to  impart  consola- 
tion, and  never  did  I  feel  so  utterly  powerless  to  do  it. 
You  say  yourself,  that  neither  reason  nor  religion  can 
restrain  your  tormenting  imagination.  What  encou- 
ragement, then,  have  I  to  attempt  to  comfort  you  under 
the  evils  it  occasions  ?  I  wish  I  could  communicate 
to  you  the  feelings  which  have  rendered  me  happy  for 
some  weeks  past.  I  will  mention  the  texts  which  oc- 
casioned them  ;  texts  on  which  I  have  preached  late- 
ly. Perhaps  the  great  Comforter  may  apply  them  to 
you.  If  so,  you  will  little  need  any  consolation  which 
I  can  give.  The  first  is  Isaiah,  26  :  20.  The  time  of 
our  continuance  on  earth  is  but  a  moment ;  nay,  it  is 
but  a  little  moment.    Suppose,  then,  the  worst.     Sup- 


340  MEMOIR    OF 

pose  that  all  the  evils  which  imagination  can  paint 
should  come  upon  you.  They  will  endure  only  for  a 
little  moment ;  and,  while  this  little  moment  is  pass- 
ing away,  you  may  run  and  hide  in  the  chambers  of 
protection  which  God  has  provided  for  his  people,  till 
the  mansions  preparing  for  them  above  are  ready  for 
their  reception.  O  then,  my  dear  mother,  glory  in 
these  afflictions,  which  endure  but  for  amom.ent,  a  lit- 
tle moment.  O,  hoAv  near,  how  A'ery  near  is  eternity  ! 
It  is  even  at  the  door ! 

"  New-year's  Sabbath  I  preached  on  this  text,  '  As 
the  Lord  liveth,  there  is  but  a  step  between  me  and 
death.'  One  inference  was,  there  is  but  a  step  be- 
tween Christians  and  heaven.  So  it  has  seemed  to 
me  almost  ever  since.  Another  text,  which  I  have 
preached  on  lately,  and  which  has  been  much  blessed 
to  me,  is  Rev.  21 :  23.  'And  the  city  had  no  need  of 
the  sun,'  &c.  O  how  unutterably  glorious  did  hea- 
ven appear !  It  is  glory :  it  is  a  weight  of  glory ; 
an  exceeding  weight  of  glory ;  a  far  more  exceed- 
ing weight  of  glory  ;  afar  more  exceeding  and  eter- 
nal weight  of  glory.  O  how  shall  we  bear  such 
a  weight  of  glory  as  this  !  How  shall  we  wait  with 
patience  till  we  arrive  at  it !  O,  it  seems  too  much, 
too  boundless,  too  overwhelming  to  think  of.  Come 
afflictions  ;  come  troubles ;  come  trials,  temptations, 
distresses  of  every  kind  and  degree ;  make  our  path 
through  life  as  painful,  as  wearisome  as  you  can  ;  still 
if  heaven  is  at  the  end  of  it,  we  will  smile  at  all  you 
can  do.  My  dear  mother,  break  away  ;  O  that  God 
would  enable  you  to  break  away  from  all  your  cares 
and  sorrows,  and  fly,  rise,  soar  up  to  the  New  Jerusa- 
lem.    See  its  diamond  walls,   its  jrolden  streets,  its 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  341 

pearly  gates,  its  shining  inhabitants,  all  in  a  blaze 
with  reflected  light  and  glory,  the  light  of  God,  the 
glory  of  the  Lamb !  Say  Avith  David,  Toward  this 
city  I  will  go  in  the  strength  of  the  Lord  God ;  I  will 
make  mention  of  thy  righteousness,  even  of  thine  only. 
My  mother,  what  a  righteousness  is  this  !  The  righ- 
teousness of  God  !  A  righteousness  as  much  better 
than  that  of  Adam,  nay,  than  that  of  angels,  as  God 
is  better  than  his  creatures.  Since,  then,  my  dear  mo- 
ther, you  have  such  a  heaven  before  you  ;  such  a  righ- 
teousness to  entitle  you  to  heaven ;  and  such  blessed 
chambers  to  hide  in,  during  the  little  moment  which 
separates  you  from  heaven — dry  up  your  tears,  banish 
your  anxieties,  leave  sorrow  and  sighmg  to  those  who 
have  no  such  blessings  in  store  or  reversion,  and  sing, 
sing,  as  Noah  sat  secure  in  the  ark,  and  sang  '  the 
grace  that  steered  him  through.' 

***** 
"I  would  urge  my  dear  father  to  be  more  careful  of 
himself,  if  I  thought  it  would  do  any  good ;  but  it  will 
not.  The  nearer  he  gets  to  his  sun,  his  centre,  the  end 
of  his  course,  the  faster  he  will  fly,  and  you  cannot 
stop  him.  Catch  hold  of  him,  and  fly  with  him,  and 
I  will  come  panting  after  as  fast  as  I  can." 

To  a  kinsman,  in  an  important  crisis  of  his  reli- 
gious experience : 

"  In  your  present  situation,  and  for  some  time 

to  come,  your  greatest  difficulty  will  be  to  maintain 
the  daily  performance  of  closet  duties.  On  your  main- 
taining that  part,  the  fate  of  the  whole  battle  will  turn. 
This  your  great  adversary  well  knows.  He  knows 
that  if  he  can  beat  you  out  of  the  closet  he  shall  have 

M.  P.  29* 


342  MEMOIR   OF 

you  in  his  own  power.  You  will  be  in  the  situation 
of  an  army  cut  off  from  supplies  and  re-enforcements, 
and  will  be  obliged  either  to  capitulate  or  to  surrender 
at  discretion.  He  will,  therefore,  leave  no  means  un- 
tried to  drive  or  draw  you  from  the  closet.  And  it  will 
be  hard  work  to  maintain  that  post  against  him  and 
your  ov/n  heart.  Sometimes  he  will  probably  assail 
you  with  more  violence  when  you  attempt  to  read  or 
pray  than  at  any  other  time,  and  thus  try  to  persuade 
you  that  prayer  is  rather  injurious  than  beneficial.  At 
other  times  he  Avill  withdraw  and  lie  quiet,  lest,  if  he 
should  distress  yoa  with  his  temptation,  you  might 
be  driven  to  the  throne  of  grace  for  help.  If  he  can 
prevail  upon  us  to  be  careless  and  stupid  he  will  rare- 
ly distress  us.  He  will  not  disturb  a  false  peace,  be- 
cause it  is  a  peace  of  which  he  is  the  author.  But  if 
he  cannot  succeed  in  lulling  ils  asleep,  he  will  do  all 
in  his  power  to  distress  us.  And  v/hen  he  is  permit- 
ted to  do  this,  and  the  Holy  Spirit  v/itiidraws  his  sen- 
sible aid  and  consolations ;  when,  though  we  cry  and 
shout,  God  seems  to  shut  out  our  prayers — it  is  by  no 
means  easy  to  be  constant  in  secret  duties.  Indeed,  it 
is  always  most  difficult  to  attend  to  them  when  they 
are  most  necessary.  But  never  mind.  Your  Lord  and 
Master  is  looking  on.  He  notices,  he  accepts,  and  he 
will  reward  every  struggle.  Besides,  in  the  Christian 
warfare,  to  maintain  the  conflict  is  to  gain  the  victory. 
The  promise  is  made  to  him  that  endures  to  the  end. 
The  object  of  our  spiritual  adversaries,  then,  is  to  pre- 
vent us  from  enduring  to  the  end.  If  they  fail  of  ef- 
fecting this  object  they  are  defeated.  Every  day  in 
which  you  are  preserved  from  going  back  they  sustain 
a  defeat.     And  if,  by  praying  yesterday,  you  gained 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  343 

Strength  enough  to  pray  to-day  ;  and  if,  by  praying  to- 
day, you  gain  strength  enough  to  pray  again  to-mor- 
row, you  have  cause  for  thankfulness.  If  the  food 
which  you  take  every  day  nourishes  you  for  one  day, 
you  are  satisfied.  You  do  not  expect  that  the  food  you 
ate  yesterday  will  nourish  you  to-day.  Do  not  com- 
plain, then,  if  you  find  it  necessary  to  ask  every  day 
for  fresh  supplies  of  spiritual  nourishment ;  and  do  not 
think  your  prayers  are  unanswered,  so  long  as  you  are 
enabled  to  struggle  on,  even  though  it  should  be  with 
pain  and  difficulty.  Every  day  I  see  more  clearly  how 
great  a  mercy  it  is  to  be  kept  from  open  sin  and  from 
complete  apostasy.  If  you  are  thus  kept,  be  thankful 
for  it." 

To  a  gentleman  in  a  neighboring  state,  whose  hos- 
pitality he  had  enjoyed  while  on  a  journey  for  his 
health,  and  who  has  since  yielded  to  the  expostula- 
tions of  his  revered  friend,  and  is  now  numbered  with 
the  people  of  God  : 

"  The  unvarying  kindness  and  hospitality  with 
which  I  was  treated  while  at  your  house,  has  left  an 
impression  upon  my  mind,  and  laid  me  under  obliga- 
tions which,  I  trust,  will  never  be  forgotten.  In  addi- 
tion to  this,  the  apparent  interest  with  which  you  lis- 
tened to  remarks  on  religious  subjects,  and  your  re- 
quest that  I  Avould  write  to  you  and  pray  for  you,  have 
led  me  to  feel  a  more  than  ordinary  concern  for  your 
future  welfare.  It  is  this  which  induces  me  to  write — 
yet  I  must  confess  that  I  write  with  trembling.  The 
numerous  instances  in  which  I  have  seen  religious  im- 
pressions fade  away,  lead  me  to  fear  that,  ere  this,  the 
subject  may  have  ceased  to  appear  interesting  to  you. 


344  MEMOIR    OF 

and  that  you  will  not  thank  me  for  troubling  you  with 
this  letter.  But  I  will,  for  the  present,  hope  better 
things,  and,  under  the  influence  of  such  a  hope,  will 
venture  to  write.  Yet  what  shall  I  say,  ignorant  as  I 
am  of  the  present  state  of  your  mind,  and,  of  course, 
equally  ignorant  of  what  it  requires  ?  I  have  been  im- 
ploring that  omniscient  Being,  who  is  perfectly  ac- 
quainted with  it,  to  guide  my  pen,  and  lead  me  to 
write  something  which  may  prove  '  a  word  in  season.' 
Should  he  grant  me  this,  it  would  be  a  favor  indeed. 

'•  Perhaps  I  ought  to  address  you  as  a  Christian. 
Perhaps  you  have,  ere  this,  become  a  cordial,  decided 
disciple  of  Jesus  Christ.  I  am  not  entirely  without 
hope  that  this  is  the  case.  Few  things  could  give  me 
more  pleasure  than  to  be  assured  that  it  is  so.  If  it  is, 
you  will  need  no  exhortations  from  me  to  pursue  a 
course  which  you  have  already  found  to  be  '  ways  of 
pleasantness  and  paths  of  peace.'  If  it  is,  you  have 
already  '  tasted  and  seen  that  the  Lord  is  good ;'  you 
know  his  goodness,  not  speculatively,  or  by  report 
merely,  but  experimentally ;  and  you  can  address  the 
Savior  in  the  language  of  Peter — '  I  believe  and  am 
sure  that  thou  art  the  Christ,  the  Son  of  the  living  God.' 
But,  if  this  is  not  the  case,  if  your  mind  remains  in  the 
same  state  in  which  I  left  it,  the  following  hints  may 
possibly  prove  serviceable  : 

"  God,  as  a  wise  Being,  employs  means  and  instru- 
ments suited  to  the  work  which  he  designs  to  perform. 
He  never  employs  powerful  means  or  dignified  agents 
to  effect  a  work  which  might  as  well  be  effected  by 
weak  means  and  feeble  agents.  He  would  not  employ 
an  angel  to  do  the  work  of  a  man ;  he  would  not  send 
his  only  Son  to  perform  works  which  did  not  trans- 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  345 

cend  the  powers  of  an  angel.  Hence  we  may  infer, 
that,  if  men  or  angels  could  have  effected  the  work  of 
man's  redemption,  God  would  not  have  employed  his 
own  Son  to  effect  it ;  and,  if  that  Son  could  have  ef- 
fected it  in  any  easier  way  than  by  dying  on  the  cross, 
he  would  never  have  consented  to  die  in  that  manner. 
Consider  then,  my  dear  Sir,  how  great  a  work  this 
must  have  been.  To  create  the  world  cost  Jesus  Christ 
but  six  days  ;  but  to  redeem  the  world  cost  him  thirty- 
three  years,  spent  in  poverty  and  labor,  and  the  shed- 
ding of  his  own  blood.  How  great,  then,  must  have 
been  the  evils  from  which  he  did  all  this  to  redeem  us  ! 
How  terrible  must  be  the  situation  of  sinners,  since 
he  suffered  so  much  to  rescue  them  from  it !  From  the 
dignity  of  the  Physician  and  the  costliness  of  the  re- 
medy we  may  learn  how  dangerous,  how  desperate 
was  the  disease.  Only  let  a  man  say,  with  firm  con- 
viction— '  My  situation  was  so  dangerous,  so  hopeless, 
that  nothing  less  than  the  incarnation  and  death  of 
God's  eternal  Son  could  save  me  from  it,'  and  he  will 
scarcely  remain  at  rest  until  he  has  secured  salvation. 
He  will  not,  cannot  rest  in  a  situation  so  dangerous. 
"  But  these  facts  and  inferences,  obvious  as  they 
are,  we  are  prone  to  overlook.  There  is  a  species  of 
religion  which  appears  to  us  much  more  rational  and 
agreeable  than  the  doctrines  of  the  cross.  It  is,  indeed, 
little  better  than  deism ;  for  Christ  has  almost  no  place 
in  it.  It  may,  therefore,  be  useful  to  attend  to  such 
passages  as  these  :— '  All  men  should  honor  the  Son, 
even  as  ihey  honor  the  Father  :' — '  He  that  honoreth 
not  the  Son,  honoreth  not  the  Father:' — 'He  that  de- 
nietn  the  Son,  hath  not  the  Father.'  Christ  says—'  No 
raan  cometh  to  the  Father  but  bv  me  :' — '  In  him  dwells 


346  MEMOIR    OF 

all  the  fullness  of  the  Godhead  bodily.'  Now,  if  all  the 
fullness  of  the  Godhead  dwells  in  Christ,  no  man  can 
obtain  any  portion  of  that  fullness  without  applying  to 
Christ.  In  a  word,  Christ's  language  is — '  Without  me 
ye  can  do  nothing.'  Never,  then,  shall  we  do  any  thing 
successfully  in  religion,  unless  we  apply  for  and  ob- 
tain this  assistance.  We  must  begin  with  Christ.  He 
is  the  Author  and  Finisher  of  our  faith. 

''  I  have  written  at  random,  and  in  the  dark  respect- 
mg  your  present  feelings.  I  can  scarcely  hope  that 
these  broken  hints  will  be  of  any  service.  But  they 
will,  at  least,  serve  as  a  proof  that  I  have  not  forgotten 
your  kindness,  and  that  I  feel  an  interest  in  your  wel- 
fare. This  interest  is  deeper  than  you  are,  perhaps, 
aware.  It  would  gratify  me  much  to  hear  from  you, 
and  still  more  to  hear  that  you  are  '  rejoicing  in  the 
truth.'    Be  pleased  to  remember  me  respectfully  and 

affectionately  to  Mrs. .    I  have  not  forgotten  her 

kindness.  Our  journey,  after  we  left  you,  was  tolera- 
bly pleasant,  but  of  little  service  to  my  health.  *  * 
May  we  all  meet  in  heaven,  is  the  frequent  prayer  of 

'•  Yours  sincerely." 

To  a  distant  lady,  in  whose  piety  he  had  full  con- 
fidence, but  who  was  much  discouraged  respecting 
herself: 

"  My  dear  Mrs. 

'•  What  a  task  you  have  imposed  on  me !  You  re- 
quire me  to  write  you  a  letter  which  shall  make  you 
feel,  and  yet  you  tell  me  that  the  Bible,  the  letter 
which  God  himself  has  sent  to  you  from  heaven,  does 
not  make  vou  feel.    If  I  believed  this  to  be  the  case 


EDWARD    PAY50N.  347 

could  I  "write  with  any  hope  of  success  ?  Could  I 
hope  to  affect  a  heart  which  a  message  from  heaven 
does  not  affect  ?  But  I  do  not.  cannot  believe  that 
this  message  has  failed  to  affect  you.  Your  letter  to 
Mrs.  P.  contains  proof  that  it  has  not.  In  that  letter 
you  say — '  I  hate  myself  while  I  write.'  But  hatred  of 
one's  self,  or  self-abhorrence,  is  one  of  the  constitu- 
ent parts  of  true  repentance.  No  one  but  the  real 
penitent,  no  one  who  is  not  a  Christian,  hates  him- 
self. He  who  abhors  himself,  sees  and  feels  it  to  be 
right  that  Grod  should  abhor  him.  He  can  accordingly 
take  part  with  God  against  himself — justify  God  while 
he  reproaches  and  condemns  himself.  And  he  who 
can  do  this  is  prepared  to  embrace  the  Gospel,  to  re- 
ceive it  as  glad  tidings  of  great  joy.  Are  you  not  then, 
my  dear  madam,  proved  to  be  a  Christian  out  of  your 
own  mouth  ?  If  you  do  not  choose  to  yield  to  proof 
from  that  source,  let  me  request  you  to  come  wiih  me 
to  the  mount  of  transfiguration.  We  may,  like  the 
disciples,  feel  emotions  of  fear  as  we  enter  the  bright 
cloud  which  overshadows  it,  but  we  have  no  reason 
to  entertain  such  emotions.  Now  contemplate  Him 
who  stood  on  the  summit  in  the  midst  of  this  bright 
cloud.  See  his  countenance  shining  like  the  sun,  and 
his  raiment  white  as  the  light.  See  all  the  fullness  of 
the  Godhead  dwelling  in  him.  diffusing  itself  around. 
Hear  the  awful  voice  of  the  eternal  Father,  proclaim- 
ing— •  This  is  my  beloved  Son,  in  whom  I  am  well 
pleased ;  hear  ye  him.'  Recollect  all  that  you  have 
heard  and  read  of  the  Being  before  you.  Think  of  his 
power  to  save,  of  his  willingness  to  save,  of  his  de- 
light in  saving  sinners.  And  now,  what  does  your 
heart  say  to  all  this  ?    What  reply  does  it  make  when 


34S  MEMOIR   OP 

the  Savior,  turning  upon  you  a  lock  full  of  invitation, 
benevolence,  and  compassion,  says  to  you — Fear  not, 
Mary,  to  approach  me ;  I  am  corne  to  seek  and  to  save 
that  which  was  lost :  shall  1  save  thee  ?  Wilt  thou 
consent  to  have  me  for  thy  Savior  upon  my  own  terms  ? 
Wilt  thou  believe  that  I  am  disposed  to  look  with  an  eye 
of  pity  on  thy  struggles  against  sin,  and  to  assist  thee  in 
overcoming  it  ?  Wilt  thou  believe  that  I  can  bear  with 
thee,  forgive  thee,  have  patience  with  thee,  and  never 
be  weary  of  instructing  thee,  reclaiming  thee,  and 
leading  thee  forward  in  the  way  to  heaven?  And 
now,  my  dear  madam,  let  me  ask  once  more.  What  re- 
ply does  your  heart  make  to  this  language  ?  Does  it  not 
say,  with  Peter — 'Lord,  it  is  good  to  be  here' — it  is 
good  to  sit  at  thy  feet,  and  hear  thy  word ;  I  believe, 
I  am  sure  that  thou  art  the  Christ,  the  Son  of  the  liv- 
ing God? — If  this  is  the  language  of  your  heart,  he 
does,  in  effect,  say  to  you — '  Blessed  art  thou,  Mary- 
Ann;  for  flesh  and  blood  have  not  revealed  this  unto 
thee,  but  my  Father  who  is  in  heaven.'  Blessed  art 
thou,  for  thou  hast  chosen  the  good  part,  and  it  shall 
never  be  taken  from  thee.  But  perhaps  you  will  say — 
for  you  have  to  dispute  against  yourself — '  I  believe 
nothing,  feel  nothing  of  all  this.'  Let  me  then  make 
another  trial.  St.  Paul,  speaking  of  ancient  believers, 
says — '  If  they  had  been  mindful  of  the  country  whence 
they  came  out,  they  might  have  had  opportunity  to  re- 
turn thither ;  but  they  desired  another  country,  even  a 
heavenly ;  wherefore  God  is  not  ashamed  to  be  called 
their  God.'  Now  permit  me  to  apply  this  passage  to 
your  case.  If  you  are  mindful  of  the  world,  if  you 
wish  to  return  to  that  careless,  sinful  state  of  con- 
formity to  it  from  which  you  are  professedly  come 


EDWARD   PAYSO.V-  349 

out,  you  have  opportunity  to  return  to  it ;  there  is  no- 
thing to  prevent  you.  But  can  you  say  that  you  wish 
to  return?  Can  you  deny  that  you  desire  a  better 
country,  even  a  heavenly  ?  If  you  do  desire  it,  if  you 
have  no  wish  to  return  to  the  service  of  sin,  then  God 
is  not  ashamed  to  be  called  your  God ;  and  if  he  is  not 
ashamed  to  be  called  your  God,  then  you  ought  not  to 
be  afraid  to  call  him  so ;  but  ought  to  approach  him 
with  confidence,  crying,  '  My  Father !  my  God  !'  " 

The  following  letter  of  condolence  to  his  bereaved 
parents  contains  some  reminiscences  of  a  most  valua- 
ble woman,  which  ought  to  be  preserved,  and  which 
will  be  gladly  recognised  by  great  numbers,  to  whom 
she  was  endeared  by  "  the  good  works  and  alms-deeds 
which  she  did :" 

''May  4:,  1818. 
"  My  dear  afflicted  Parents, 

"  You  will  probably  hear  from  poor  brother  Rand 
before  you  receive  this  letter,  that  you  have  one  child 
less  on  earth  to  comfort  you  in  the  decline  of  life  ;  that 
dear,  dear  Grata  has  gone  before  you  to  heaven.  I 
cannot  hope  to  console  you  ;  but  I  do  hope  that  your 
surviving  children  will  feel  bound  to  do  every  thing  in 
their  power  to  make  up  your  loss,  by  increased  filial 
affection  and  concern  for  your  happiness.  I  cannot 
mourn  for  Grata.  How  much  suffering  of  body  and 
mind  has  she  escaped  by  her  early  departure  I  But  I 
mourn  for  poor  brother  Rand,  for  his  motherless  chil- 
dren, and  for  you.  It  would  be  some  consolation  to 
you,  could  you  know  how  much  she  was  beloved,  how 
greatly  her  loss  is  lamented,  how  much  good  she  did, 
and  how  loudly  she  is  praised  by  all  who  knew  her. 

M.  P.  30 


850  MEMOIR   OF 

I  doubt  not  that  hundreds  mourn  for  her,  and  feel  her 
loss  almost  or  quite  as  much  as  do  her  relatives.  Mr. 
H.j  who  preached  her  funeral  sermon,  gave  her  a  most 
exalted  character ;  and  a  young  lady  who  resided  a 
few  weeks  in  Mr.  Rand's  family,  speaks  of  her  every 
where  as  the  most  faultless  person  with  whom  she 
was  ever  acquainted. 

"  Many,  many  prayers  have  been  pffered  up,  both 
here  and  at  Gorham,  that  you  may  be  supported  and 
comforted  when  the  tidings  reach  you  ;  and  I  hope  and 
trust  they  will  be  answered.     Thanks  be  to  God  that 
you  are  loved  and  blessed  by  many  ^ho  never  saw 
you,  on   account  of  your  children*    Mr.  Rand  feels 
great  hopes  that  her  loss  will  be  blessed  to  his  church 
and  people;  and  that  she  will  do- more  good  in  her 
death,  than  she  has  done  in  her  life ;  and  from  what  I 
saw  at  the  funeral,  I  cannot  but  indulge  similar  hopes. 
You  will  wish  to  know  how  he  bears  the  loss  ;  but  I 
can  hardly  tell.     When  I  saw  him  he  had  been  in  a 
state  of  confusion,  and  surrounded  by  his  mourning 
people  from  the  moment  of  her  death  ;  so  that,  as  he 
more  than  once  observed,  he  could    scarcely  realize 
that  she  was  dead,  or  tell  how  he  felt.     The  worst  is 
yet  to  come  ;  but  I  doubt  not  he  will  be  supported.     I 
hope,  too,  that  her  loss  will  do  me  some  good.     The 
suddenness  of  her  departure  makes  the  other  world  ap- 
pear very  near ;  and  she  seems  as  mjuch,  and  even 
more  alive,  than  she  did  before.     I  preached  with  re- 
ference to  the  subject  yesterday ;  and  could  not  but 
hope  that  her  death  might  be  blessed  to  some  of  my 
people,  or  at  least  to  some  of  the  church." 

To  two  of  his  flock,  who,  in   their  absence  from 
heme,  were    to    receive   with  this    letter   the    afflict- 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  351 

mg  intelligence  of  the  death  of  their  only  child  : 
"  My  dear  brother  and  sister  in  Christ,  and  now 
brother  and  sister  in  affliction,  the  letters  which  ac- 
company this  will  inform  you  why  I  write.  I  see  and 
share  in  the  poignant  grief  which  those  letters  occa- 
sion ;  nor  would  I  rudely  interrupt  it.  I  will  sit  down 
and  weep  with  you  in  silence  for  a  while  ;  and  when 
the  first  gush  of  wounded  affection  is  past ;  when  the 
tribute  which  nature  demands,  and  which  religion 
does  not  forbid,  has  been  paid  to  the  memory  of  youi 
dear  departed  babe,  I  will  attempt  to  whisper  a  word 
of  consolation.  May  the  '  God  of  all  consolation  ' 
make  it  such.  Were  I  writing  to  parents  who  know 
nothing  of  religion,  I  should  indeed  despair  of  afford- 
ing you  any  consolation.  My  task  would  be  difficult 
indeed,  nor  should  I  know  what  to  say.  I  could  only 
tell  them  of  a  God  whom  they  had  never  known,  of  a 
Savior  with  whom  they  had  formed  no  acquaintance, 
of  a  Comforter  whose  consoling  power  they  had  never 
experienced,  of  a  Bible  from  whose  rich  treasures 
they  had  never  been  taught  to  derive  support.  But  in 
writing  to  you,  my  only  difficulty  is  of  a  very  different 
kind.  It  consists  in  selecting  from  the  innumerable 
topics  of  consolation  contained  in  the  Scriptures,  those 
which  are  best  adapted  to  your  peculiar  situation.  So 
numerous  are  they,  that  I  know  not  which  to  mention 
or  which  to  omit.  May  God  guide  my  choice  and  di- 
rect my  pen.  It  is  needless,  in  writing  to  Christian 
parents,  to  you,  to  enlarge  on  the  common  topics  of 
consolation.  I  need  not  tell  you  who  has  done  this — 
who  it  is  that  gives  and  takes  away.  I  need  not  tell 
you,  that  '  whom  the  Lord  loveth  he  chasteneth,  and 
Bcourgeth  every  son  whom  he  receiveth.'     I  need  not 


352  MEMOIR   OF 

tell  you  of  the  great  duties  of  resignation  and  submis- 
sion, for  you  have  long  been  learning  them  in  a  pain- 
ful but  salutary  school.  And  need  I  tell  you  that  he 
who  inflicts  your  sufterings,  knows  their  number  and 
weight,  knows  all  the  pain  you  feel,  and  sympathizes 
with  you  even  as  you  once  sympathized  with  your  dear 
babe  ;  for  as  a  father  pitieth  his  children,  so  the  Lord 
pitieth  them  that  fear  him.  O  think  of  this  ;  the  pity, 
the  parental  pity,  of  a  God.  Who  would  not  willing- 
ly be  afflicted  to  be  thus  pitied  !  Go  then,  my  dear 
brother  and  sister,  and  lean  with  sweet  confiding  love 
upon  the  bosom  of  this  pitying,  sympathizing  Friend  ; 
there  deposit  all  your  sorrows,  and  hear  him  saying, 
The  cup  which  /  give  you,  my  children,  will  you  not 
drink  it  ?  Remember  he  knows  all  its  bitterness.  He 
himself  mentions  the  grief  of  parents  mourning  for  a 
first-born  and  only  child  as  exceedingly  great.  Re- 
member, too,  that  taking  this  bitter  cup  with  cheerful- 
ness from  your  Father's  hand,  will  be  considered  by 
him  as  an  unequivocal  token  of  your  filial  aflfection. 
'  Now  I  know  that  thou  lovest  me,'  said  he  to  Abra- 
ham, '  seeing  thou  hast  not  withheld  thy  son,  thine 
only  son  from  me.'  It  requires  the  same  kind  of 
grace,  if  not  the  same  degree  of  grace,  to  resign  a 
child  willingly  to  God,  as  to  sacrifice  it  on  the  altar ; 
and  if  you  are  enabled  thus  to  resign  your  babe,  God 
will  say  to  you.  Now  I  know  that  ye  love  me,  seeing 
ye  withheld  not  your  child,  your  07ilt/  child,  from  me. 
If  at  times,  when  '  all  the  parent  rises  in  your  bo- 
soms,' these  consolations  should  prove  insufllicient  to 
quiet  your  sorrows,  think  on  what  is  the  situation  and 
employment  of  your  dear  departed  child.  She  is  doubt- 
less praising  God  ;  and,  next  to  the  gift  of  Christ,  she 


EDWARD   PAYSON.  353 

probably  praises  him  for  giving  her  parents  who  prayed 
for  her  and  dedicated  her  to  God.  She  now  knows  all 
that  you  did  for  her,  and  loves  and  thanks  you  for  it, 
and  will  love  and  thank  you  for  ever ;  for  though  na- 
tural ties  are  dissolved  by  death,  yet  those  spiritual 
ties  which  unite  yoa  and  your  child  will  last  long  as 
eternity.  She  has  performed  all  the  work  and  done 
all  the  good  for  which  she  was  sent  to  us,  and  thus 
fulfilled  the  end  of  her  earthly  existence  ;  and  if  you 
have  been  the  means  of  bringing  into  being  a  little  im- 
mortal, who  had  just  lighted  on  these  shores  and  then 
took  her  flight  to  heaven,  you  have  reason  to  be  thank- 
ful ;  for  it  is  an  honor  and  a  favor.  Neither  your  exist- 
ence nor  your  union  have  been  in  vain,  since  you  have 
been  the  instruments  of  adding  one  more  blest  voice  to 
the  choirs  above.  But  I  must  close.  May  God  bless 
you,  support  and  restore  you  to  us  in  safety,  is  the  prayer 
of  your  affectionate  friend  and  pastor, 

•'Edward  Payson." 

A  letter  of  counsel  to  a  candidate  for  the  ministry : 
"My  dear  Brother, 

"I  rejoice  to  learn  that  you  are  in  part  released 
from  the  bondage  in  which  you  have  been  so  long 
held.  That  you  are  released,  I  infer,  first,  from  the 
fact  that  you  are  preaching  ;  and  secondly,  from  your 
having  written  me  a  letter.  But  what  a  request  does 
your  letter  contain  !— That  I  should  write  to  you  sys- 
tematically !  /,  who  never  did  any  thing  systemati- 
cally in  my  life,  but  have  always  lived  extempore !  If 
I  write  to  you,  it  must  be  in  the  same  way.  It  will  be 
the  easiest  thing  in  the  world  to  give  vou  plenty  of 

M.  P.  30* 


354  MEMOIR   OF 

good  advice.  All  the  difficulty  will  be  to  make  you 
follow  it.  If  you  are  like  me,  you  will  never  learn 
any  thing  to  any  purpose  till  it  is  beaten  into  you  by 
painful  experience;  and  even  then  you  will  probably 
forget  it  in  a  tenth  part  of  the  time  which  it  took  you 
to  learn  it.  However,  I  will  tell  you  one  thing  which 
experience  has  taught  me.  If  you  will  believe  it  on 
my  word,  it  will  save  you  some  suffering.  If  not,  you 
must  learn  it,  as  I  did,  under  the  scourge. 

"  Some  time  since  I  took  up  a  little  work,  purport- 
ing to  be  the  lives  of  sundry  characters  as  related  by 
themselves.  Two  of  those  characters  agreed  in  re- 
marking that  they  were  never  happy  until  they  ceas- 
ed striving  to  be  great  men.  This  remark  struck  me, 
as  you  know  the  most  simple  remarks  will  strike  us, 
when  Heaven  pleases.  It  occurred  to  me  at  once, 
that  most  of  my  sins  and  sufferings  were  occasioned 
by  an  unwillingness  to  be  the  nothing  which  I  am, 
and  by  consequent  struggles  to  be  something.  I  saw 
that  if  I  would  but  cease  struggling,  and  consent  to 
be  any  thing  or  nothing,  just  as  God  pleases,  I  might 
be  happy.  You  will  think  it  strange  that  I  mention 
this  as  a  new  discovery.  In  one  sense  it  was  not  new; 
I  had  known  it  for  years.  But  I  now  saw  it  in  a  new 
light.  My  heart  saw  it,  and  consented  to  it ;  and  I 
am  comparatively  happy.  My  dear  brother,  if  you 
can  give  up  all  desire  to  be  great,  and  feel  heartily 
willing  to  be  nothing,  you  will  be  happy  too.  You 
must  not  even  wish  to  be  a  great  Christian ;  that  is, 
you  must  not  wish  to  make  great  attainments  in  reli- 
gion, for  the  sake  of  knowing  that  you  have  made,  or 
for  the  sake  of  having  others  think  that  you  have 
made  them.     Very  true  and  very  good,  you  will  say, 


EDWARD   PAYSON.  355 

though  somewhat  trite ;  but  how  am  I  to  bring  myself 
to  such  a  state  ?  Let  me  ask  in  reply,  why  you  are 
not  troubled  when  you  see  one  man  receive  military 
and  another  masonic  honors  ?  Why  are  you  not  un- 
happy, because  you  cannot  be  a  colonel,  a  general,  or 
a  most  worshipful  grand  high  priest  ?  Because,  you 
answer,  1  have  no  desire  for  these  titles  or  distinc- 
tions. And  why  do  you  not  desire  them  ?  Simply 
Decause  you  are  not  running  a  race  in  competition 
with  those  who  obtain  them.  You  stand  aside  and 
*ay.  Let  those  who  w^ish  for  these  things  have  them. 
Now  if  you  can  in  a  similar  manner  give  up  all  com- 
petition with  respect  to  other  objects  ;  if  you  can  stand 
aside  from  the  race  which  too  many  ministers  are  run- 
ning, and  say  from  your  heart,  '  Lei  those  who  choose 
to  engage  in  such  a  race  divide  the  prize ;  let  one  mi- 
nister run  av;ay  with  the  money,  and  another  with  the 
esteem,  and  a  third  with  the  applause,  &c.  &c.;  I  have 
something  else  to  do,  a  different  race  to  run  ;  be  God's 
approbation  the  only  prize  for  which  I  run  ;  let  me  ob- 
tain that,  and  it  is  enough  ;' — I  say,  if  you  can  from 
the  heart  adopt  this  language,  you  will  find  most  of 
your  difficulties  and  sufferings  vanish.  But  it  is  hard  to 
say  this.  It  is  almost  impossible  to  persuade  any  man 
to  renounce  the  race  without  cutting  off  his  feet,  or  at 
least  fettering  him.  This  God  has  done  for  me ;  this 
he  has  been  doing  for  you.  And  you  will  one  day,  if 
you  do  not  now,  bless  him  for  all  your  sufferings,  as  I 
do  for  mine.  I  have  not  suffered  one  pang  too  much. 
God  was  never  more  kind  than  w^hen  I  thought  him 
most  unkind ;  never  more  faithful  than  when  I  was 
ready  to  say.  His  faithfulness  has  failed.  Let  him 
fetter  you  then,  if  he  pleases.   Consent  that  he  should 


356  MEMOIR   OF 

cut  off  your  feet,  if  he  pleases.  Any  thing  is  a  bless- 
ing which  prevents  us  from  running  the  fatal  race 
which  we  are  so  prone  to  run ;  which  first  convinces 
us  that  we  are  nothing,  and  then  makes  us  willing  to 
be  so." 

To  an  aged  mother,  suffering  great  anxiety  on  ac- 
count of  the  disheartened  and  comfortless  condition  of 
her  son  : 

"  You  give  yourself  too  much  trouble  about  P.  After 
you  have  prayed  for  him  as  you  have  done,  and  com- 
mitted him  to  God,  should  you  not  cease  to  feel  anxious 
respecting  him?  The  command,  '  Be  careful  for  720- 
ihing,^  is  unlimited  ;  and  so  is  the  expression,  '  casting 
all  your  care  upon  him.'  If  we  cast  our  burdens  upon 
another,  can  they  continue  to  press  upon  us  ?  If  we 
bring  them  aAvay  with  us  from  the  throne  of  grace,  it 
is  evident  we  do  not  leave  them  there.  With  respect 
to  myself,  I  have  made  this  one  test  of  my  prayers. 
If,  after  committing  any  thing  to  God,  I  can  like  Han- 
nah come  away,  and  have  my  conscience  no  more  sad, 
my  heart  no  more  pained  or  anxious,  I  look  upon  it  as 
one  proof  that  I  prayed  in  faith;  but  if  I  bring  away 
my  burden,  I  conclude  that  faith  was  not  in  exercise. 
If  God  has  any  Avork  for  P.  to  do,  he  will  cause  him.  to 
do  it.  He  made  him  as  he  made  every  thing  else,  for  his 
own  glory,  and  he  will  cause  his  glory  to  be  promoted  by 
him.  Of  course  I  should  net  urge  this  as  a  reason  for 
neglecting  to  counsel  or  pray  for  him  ;  but  as  a  reason 
why,  when  we  have  performed  these  duties,  we  should 
be  free  from  all  care  and  anxiety  respecting  the  event. 
The  case  of  Cowper,  which  you  feared  would  do  me 
hurt,  did  me  much  good.     It  led  me  to  such  reflections 


EDWARD    PAYSON  357 

as  these: — If  God  could,  without  injury  to  himself  or 
his  cause,  suffer  such  a  mind  as  that  of  Cowper  to  rust 
in  inaction,  to  be  fettered  by  nervous  difficulties  and 
temptations,  or  to  be  uselessly  employed  for  ten  years 
together  in  translating  a  pagan  poet,  is  it  any  Avonder 
that  he  should  leave  my  little  mind  to  be  fettered  and 
crippled,  and  my  time  to  pass  av/ay  in  a  useless  man- 
ner? After  all,  I  am  treated  more  favorably  than  he 
was ;  and  I  desire  to  be  thankful  that  it  is  no  worse  with 
me.  You  may  make  similar  reflections  respecting  P.'s 
case.  Should  God  leave  him  in  his  present  state  all 
his  days,  it  w^ould  be  nothing  new  in  the  history  of  his 
dealings  with  his  people.  And  you  will  allow  that  he 
has  a  right  to  do  it,  and  that  he  will  not  do  it  unless  it 
is  for  the  best.  Where,  then,  is  any  reason  for  anxiety  ? 
I  should  like  indeed  to  have  God  make  use  of  me  to  do 
great  things ;  and  you  would  like  to  have  him  employ 
P.  to  do  great  things ;  but  if  he  chooses  to  leave  us 
both  crippled  and  useless,  we  must  submit." 


To  the  Rev,  Daniel  Temple,  missionary  to  Western  Asia : 
"My  dear  Brother, 


"  Portland,  Oct.  13,  1822. 


"  I  dare  not  decline  the  correspondence  which  you 
propose.  The  common  rules  of  civility,  to  say  nothing 
of  Christian  affection,  forbid  it.  Yet  I  do  not  engage 
in  such  a  correspondence  without  reluctance.  I  feel 
none  of  the  confidence  which  you  express,  that  it  will 
prove  beneficial  to  you.  Did  your  sphere  of  action  re- 
semble mine,  it  is  barely  possible  that  I  might  suggest 
some  hints  which  would  be  useful.  But  the  situation 
of  a  missionary  in  Palestine  differs  so  widely  from  that 


35o  MEMOIR    OF 

of  a  minister  in  a  Christian  country,  that  no  advice 
which  I  can  give  would  afford  you  any  assistance.  And 
the  distance  between  us  increases  my  unwillingness 
to  write.  Almost  any  thing  in  the  form  of  a  letter 
might  answer,  Avere  it  to  be  sent  only  a  few  miles ; 
but  a  letter  AVhich  is  to  cross  the  seas,  which  is  to  go 
to  Palestine,  ought  surely  to  contain  something  worth 
reading.  Even  gold  and  silver  are  almost  too  bulky 
to  be  sent  so  far.  Such  a  letter  should  resemble  bank 
notes,  or  bills  of  exchange.  But  such  a  letter  I  have 
no  hopes  of  writing.  The  faculty  of  condensing  much 
in  a  small  compass,  is  one  of  the  many  faculties  which 
I  do  not  possess.  However,  I  will  write.  May  he 
who  knoAvs  in  what  circumstances  this  letter  will  find 
you,  guide  me  to  write  something  which  may  prove  a 
'  word  in  season.' 

'•'  One  of  the  principal  results  of  the  little  experience* 
which  I  have  had  as  a  Christian  minister,  is  a  convic- 
tion that  religion  consists  very  much  in  giving  God 
that  place  in  our  views  and  feelings  which  he  actually 
fills  in  the  universe.  We  knoAV  that  in  the  universe 
he  is  all  in  all.  So  far  as  he  is  constantly  all  in  all  to 
us,  so  far  as  we  comply  with  the  Psalmist's  charge  to 
his  soul,  'My  soul,  wait  thou  only  upon  God  ;'  so  far, 
I  apprehend,  have  we  advanced  towards  perfection. 
It  is  comparatively  easy  to  waif  upon  God  ;  but  to 
wait  upon  him  only — to  feel,  so  far  as  our  strength, 
happiness,  and  usefulness  are  concerned,  as  if  all  crea- 
tures and  second  causes  were  annihilated,  and  we 
were  alone  in  the  universe  with  God,  is,  I  suspect,  a 
difficult  and  rare  attainment.  At  least,  I  am  sure  it 
is  one  which  I  am  very  far  from  having  made.  In 
proportion  as  we  make  this  attainment  we  shall  find 


EDWABD   PAYSON.  359 

«very  thing  easy  ;  for  we  shall  become,  emphatically, 
men  of  prayer  ;  and  we  may  say  of  prayer  as  Solomon 
says  of  money,  that  it  answereth  all  things.  I  have 
often  thought  that  every  minister,  and  especially  every 
missionary,  ought  frequently  to  read,  or  at  least  call 
to  mind  Foster's  Essay  on  the  Epithet  Romantic.  If 
you  have  not  his  Essays  at  hand,  you  may  perhaps 
recollect  some  of  his  concluding  remarks.  After  show- 
ing that  it  is  highly  romantic  to  expect  extraordinary 
success  from  ordinary  means,  he  adds  to  this  effect — 
*  The  individual  who  should  solemnly  resolve  to  try 
the  best  and  last  possible  efficacy  of  prayer,  and  unal- 
terably determine  that  heaven  should  not  withhold  a 
single  influence  which  the  utmost  effort  of  persevering 
prayer  could  bring  down,  would  probably  find  himself 
becoming  a  much  more  successful  agent  in  his  little 
sphere.'  Very  few  missionaries  since  the  apostles, 
probably,  have  tried  the  experinient.  He  who  shall 
make  the  first  trial,  will,  I  believe,  effect  Avonders. 
May  you,  my  dear  brother,  he  that  happy  man.  No- 
thing that  I  could  write,  nothing  which  an  angel  could 
write,  would  be  necessary  to  him  who  should  make 
this' trial.  I  trust  that  you  will  find  our  Master  is  as 
really  present  in  Palestine  as  he  was  in  the. days  of 
his  flesh  ;  that  you  will  sometimes  enjoy  his  presence 
in  the  very  places  in  which  it  was  formerly  enjoyed 
by  the  apostles.  We  read  that  on  one  occasion  they 
'  returned  to  Jesus,  and  told  him  all  things,  both  what 
tney  had  done,  and  what  they  had  taught.'  If  we 
were,  in  like  manner,  to  come  to  his  feet  every  even- 
ing, and  tell  him  where  we  have  been,  what  we  have 
done,  what  v/e  have  said,  and  what  were  our  emotions 
through  the  day ;  we  should,  I  believe,  find  it  both 


360  MEMom  or 

pleasant  and  profitable.  Perhaps  he  would  say  to  us, 
as  he  did  to  them,  Come  apart,  and  rest  with  me 
awhile.  May  he  often  invite  you  to  rest  awhile  with 
him,  to  refresh  you  when  faint  and  weary,  and,  after 
a  long  life  of  usefulness,  take  you  to  rest  with  him  for 
ever  in  his  own  heaven. 

"  I  write  no  religious  intelligence,  for  you  will  have 
it  in  the  Recorder.  I  may  however  mention  that  the 
ministers  in  this  state  agreed  to  observe  the  first  day 
of  the  present  year  as  a  day  of  fasting  and  prayer.  In 
consequence,  we  have  had  more  revivals  in  the  state 
this  year  than  in  any  former  year,  though  none  of 
them  has  been  very  extensive.  About  forty  have  been 
added  to  our  church.  We  long  to  have  good  news 
from  Palestine  ;  but  are  aware  that  we  must  wait  and 
pray  long,  before  we  can  expect  to  hear  much. 

"  I  commend  you  to  God,  my  dear  brother,  and  send 
this  letter  merely  as  a  proof  of  Christian  affection," 

To  a  ministering  brother  at  a  distance,  whose  labors 
were  suspended  by  sickness  : 

"  I  thank  you  for  your  letter,  though,  in  consequence 
of  the  unfavorable  information  which  it  communicated 
respecting  your  health,  it  gave  me  quite  as  much  pain 
as  pleasure.  I  had  hoped  to  hear  a  better  account  of 
you.  But  why  do  I  say  hoped  ?  or  what  business  have 
I  to  talk  of  hoping  or  fearing,  when  God  is  ordering 
every  thing  in  infinite  wisdom  and  mercy  ?  The  fact 
is,  I  usually  find  it  much  easier  to  acquiesce  in  my 
own  aflflictions  than  in  those  of  my  friends ;  for  I  can 
see  that  afflictions  are  absolutely  necessary  for  me, 
but  do  not  see  with  equal  clearness  that  they  are  ne- 
cessary for  them.     But  if  I  do  not  see  it,  God  does,  or 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  361 

he  Would  hot  afflict  them.  As  you  are  in  his  hands, 
you  will  be  well  the  moment  that  he  sees  it  best  you 
should  be  so ;  and  why  should  I  wish  you  to  be  well 
any  sooner?  However,  I  should  be  glad  to  hear  that 
the  time  is  arrived,  and  thai  you  are  able  to  resume 
your  labors.  If  you  are  not,  and  are  inquiring  of  your 
Master  what  he  would  have  you  do,  his  answer  is, 
*  Lie  down  at  my  feet  and  be  quiet,  till  I  give  you 
strength  to  get  up  and  Avork.'  But  he  knows  we  had 
rather  labor  than  suffer ;  and  that  we  had  rather  labor 
and  suffer  too,  than  be  laid  aside  ;  and  therefore  he 
sometimes  lays  us  aside  for  awhile,  in  order  to  try  us 
with  what  is  most  disagreeable.  Besides,  no  man  is 
fit  to  rise  up  and  labor,  until  he  is  made  willing  to  lie 
still  and  suffer  as  long  as  his  Master  pleases.  But  I 
had  almost  forgot  that  I  am  writing  a  letter,  and  not  a 
sermon.  This  is  the  less  to  be  wondered  at,  because 
T  laid  aside  a  sermon  to  scribble  to  you.  I  will  try  to 
be  less  forgetful  in  future. 

"The  revival  which  you  predicted  is  not  arrived; 
and,  what  is  worse,  we  see  no  signs  of  its  approach, 
unless  increasing  deadness  is  a  sign.  At  the  last  union 
prayer-meetiog  I  proposed  that  all  the  churches  should 
Unite  in  observing  a  day  of  fasting  and  prayer,  and 
assemble  in  the  morning  at  one  meeting-house,  in  the 
afternoon  at  another,  and  in  the  evening  at  a  third. 
No  objection  was  made  ;  but  it  was  thought  best  to 
appoint  a  committee  to  consult  each  church  in  form. 
If  they  agree  to  the  proposal,  as  I  think  they  will,  we 
shall  appoint  some  day  next  week,  and  have  notice 
given  from  the  pulpits  on  the  preceding  Sabbath. 
♦        *        *        * 

*'  I  hope  the  good  people  of  B.,  C,  &c.  have  become 
M.  p.  31 


362  MEMOIR  or 

quiet  again,  since  La  Fayette's  departure.  When  will 
the  Savior  be  invited  to  visit  us,  and  be  welcomed  as 
he  was?  Not,  I  am  afraid,  in  my  day,  nor  yours. 

"  I  have  nothing  more  to  say,  except  that  my  liealth 
is  in  the  best  state  possible;  and  yet  it  is  very  bad.  I 
leave  you  to  solve  the  riddle,  if  it  is  one,  at  your  leisure. 
When  you  have  nothing  better  to  do,  write  to  me,  and 
tell  me  that  you  are  the  better  for  having  been  sick.'^ 

To  a  kinsman  under  spiritual  trials  : 

"  My  dear  Brother, 

"  I  have  just  received  your  doleful  epistle,  and, 
though  parochial  cares  press  upon  me — having  just  re- 
turned from  a  journey — I  must  snatch  a  moment  to 
answer  it.  Would  to  God  I  could  -write  something 
which  would  prove  serviceable,  but  I  fear  I  shall  not. 
However,  I  Avill  make  the  attempt,  and  may  God 
bless  it.  You  have  no  reason  to  suppose  that  there  is 
any  thing  peculiar  or  discouraging  in  your  present  situ- 
ation. God  is  dealing  with  you  as  he  did  with  Heze-' 
kiah  when  he  left  him,  to  try  him,  that  he  '  might 
know  all  that  was  in  his  heart.'  If  you  have  ever  read 
Mr.  Newton's  description  of  grace  in  the  blade,  in  the 
ear,  and  in  the  full  corn,  you  will  recollect  that  he 
mentions  '  desire,'  as  the  characteristic  of  the  first  stage, 
and  'conflict'  as  that  of  the  second.  If  I  understand 
youf  letter,  you  have  entered  on  the  stage  of  conflict, 
and  must  now  expect  more  distressing  proofs  of  the 
desperate  wickedness  of  your  heart  than  you  had  be- 
fore experienced.  In  another  letter  Mr.  Newton  says 
'  I  believe  God  never  gives  his  people  much  of  a  vic- 
tory over  the  world  till  he  has  left  them  to  feel  how 


EDWARD   PAYSON.  363 

great  is  its  power  over  them.'  This  remark,  I  have  no 
doubt,  is  true  ;  and  God,  I  trust,  is  now  preparing  you 
for  a  victory  over  the  world,  by  showing  you  more  of 
its  strength  and  your  own  weakness.  Besides,  I  have 
no  doubt  that  your  present  trials  are  occasioned,  in 
part,  by  the  state  of  your  health.  But,  however  this 
may  be,  let  me  assure  you,  that  so  long  as  sin  is  seen, 
hated,  resisted ;  so  long  as  we  groan  under  it,  and 
struggle  against  it,  it  shall  not  harm  us.  Do  not,  then, 
yield  to  discouragement ;  do  not  neglect  the  means  of 
grace,  as  you  will  sometimes  be  strongly  tempted  to 
do ;  do  not  cease  struggling,  because  your  struggles 
scent  to  avail  nothing;  but  continue,  like  Gideon, 
though  '  faint,  yet  pursuing.'  Could  I  tell  you  what 
bitter  proofs  I  have  had  of  my  desperate,  desperate  de- 
pravity— how  often  I  have  been  brought  to  my  wits' 
end — how  often  I  should  have  chosen  strangling  and 
death  rather  than  life,  and  how  I  have  been  carried 
through  all,  it  would,  I  think,  afford  you  some  encou- 
ragement. But  perhaps  you  will  say,  '  If  I  could  feel 
distressed,  if  I  were  not  so  stupid  in  this  situation,  it 
would  encourage  me.'  And  how,  let  me  ask,  are  you 
to  learn  that  your  heart  is  like  the  nether  mill-stone, 
except  by  being  left  for  a  time  to  feel  that  nothing  can 
either  melt  or  move  it  ?  I  do  not,  of  course,  mean  to 
justify  or  excuse  this  hardness  of  heart.  It  is  a  most 
abominable  and  detestable  evil,  and  I  should  be  very 
sorry  to  say  any  thing  which  should  lead  you  to  think 
lightly  of  it ;  still,  if  our  hearty  are  hard  and  wicked 
in  a  far  greater  degree  than  we  ever  conceived  of,  it 
is  surely  best  that  we  should  know  it;  else,  how 
should  we  ever  be  duly  grateful  to  our  great  Physi- 
cian for  healing  us  ?    Heal  you  he  will,  my  dear  bro 


364  MEMOIR  or 

ther,  I  doubt  not;  but  he  will  first  make  you  know 
how  sick,  how  mortally  sick  you  are.  In  consequence, 
you  will  think  more  highly  than  ever  of  his  kindness, 
faithfulness,  and  skill;  you  will  love  much,  because 
much  has  been  forgiven  you ;  and  you  will  be  better 
prepared  to  join  in  the  song  of  '  Worthy  is  the  Lamb.' 
I  must  again,  however,  beseech  you  not  to  let  sin  turn 
these  precious  truths  to  poison,  by  tempting  you  to 
think  lightly  of  sin ;  and  not  by  any  means  be  driven 
from  attempting  to  read,  watch,  meditate,  and  pray. 
In  your  present  situation,  this  is  the  great  danger. 
You  will  be  strongly  tempted  to  despondency  and  un- 
belief, and  when  these  evils  prevail,  you  will  be 
tempted  to  neglect  the  means  of  grace  as  useless,  or 
as  means  which  you  cannot  use  aright.  Resist  this 
temptation,  and  all  will  be  well." 

Filial  and  fraternal  duty  happily  recognised : 

"  My  dear  Mother, 

"  I  should  sooner  have  answered  your  last,  had  I 
not  expected  ere  this  to  see  you.  But  the  stage  dis- 
appointed me.  I  had  engaged  a  place  in  it,  and  sal 
up  all  night  waiting  for  it,  but  it  did  not  come.  Thus, 
no  doubt  for  some  wise  reasons,  my  visit  to  you  was 
prevented.  I  had  two  particular  reasons  for  wishing  to 
come.  One  was,  to  talk  with  P.  He  is  certainly 
wrong ;  he  is  entangled  in  a  snare  of  Satan ;  he  can 
pray,  and  he  must  pray ;  he  has  no  excuse.  His  un- 
willingness to  have  "Vou  press  him  on  the  subject  is 
wrong.  I  know  all  about  it.  I  have  been  in  the  same 
snare  myself.  Whatever  P.  may  now  think,  he  will, 
sooner  or  later,  be  convinced  that  the  grand  difficulty 
lies,  not  in  his  nerves,  but  in  his  heart.    I  hope  he  will 


EDWARD   PAYSON.  365 

not  preteiwi  that  his  constitution  is  more  shattered,  or 
his  health  worse  than  mine.  But  I  have  never  seen 
the  time  when  I  could  not  pray,  if  my  heart  was  right. 
Let  him  not  think,  however,  that  I  mean  to  censure 
him  harshly.  I  have  been  too  guilty  myself  to  allow 
of  this.  But  I  do  beseech  him,  if  he  has  any  regard  to 
his  happiness  here  or  hereafter,  not  to  let  Satan  per- 
suad-e  him  that  he  is  unable  to  pray.  There  have  been 
many  seasons  in  which  I  could  pray  only  while  walk- 
ing my  study,  and,  even  then,  only  in  short,  vehement 
'^ejaculations.  If  I  knelt  down,  my  head  was  so  con- 
fused that  I  could  do  nothing.  Let  him  resolve  that 
he  will  spend  some  time  every  day  in  prayer,  if  he  can 
do  nothing  more  than  cry,  '  Lord,  pity  me  I  Lord,  help 
me !'    He  is  ruined  if  he  does  not. 

"  The  other  reason  Avhy  I  Avished  to  see  you,  was 
to  know  what  your  plans  and  wishes  are  respecting 
your  place  of  residence  when  H.  moves.  I  thought 
that  you  might  perhaps  feel  unwilling  to  move  so  far 
as  New- York.  I  hope  it  is  needless  to  tell  my  dear 
mother  that  if  she  chooses  to  make  her  home  with  us, 
we  will  do  all  in  our  power  to  make  her  home  comfort- 
able. I  hope  she  will  consult  nothing  but  her  own  incli- 
nations. If  her  children  can  do  any  thing  to  make  the 
remainder  of  her  days  comfortable,  I  trust  they  all 
have  a  full  disposition  to  do  it.  She  has  only  to  say 
the  vv'ord,  and  we  will  place  her  where  she  thinks  she 
will  be  most  comfortable. 

"  You  will  be  glad  to  hear  that,  for  a  few  weeks,  I 
have  enjoyed  some  respite  from  my  sufferings.    I  ob- 
served the  last  anniversary  of  my  ordination,  and  the:, 
first  day  of  the  present  year,  as  days  of  fasting  and 
prayer ;  and  though  I  could  do  little  more  than  groan 

M.  p  31* 


366  MEMOIR   OF 

and  sigh,  a  blessing  has  followed.  I  have  suffered 
none  too  much.  Not  one  pang  could  have  been  spared. 
Should  I  suffer  hereafter,  do  not  let  it  distress  you.  It 
is  all  necessary  ;  all  will  be  well  at  last." 

Trembling  Christians  directed  to  the  source  of  joy 
and  strength : 

"  Many  of  the  church  have  been  so  much  distressed 
that  I  thought  it  necessary  to  comfort  them  if  possible, 
and  on  Sabbath  morning  preached  from  1  Sam.  12  : 
20-24,  '  Fear  not ;  ye  have  done  all  this  wickedness,' 
&c.  My  design  was  to  show  trembling,  desponding 
Christians,  that,  notwithstanding  all  their  great  wick- 
edness, they  ought  still  to  follow  God  with  confidence 
and  increasing  diligence  ;  and  that,  if  they  would  do 
this,  they  need  not  despond  or  despair  when  God 
shows  them  what  is  in  their  hearts.  Meditate  on  the 
passage,  if  you  please ;  and  I  hope  it  may  encourage 
you  as  much  as  it  did  the  church.  I  have  preached 
more  respecting  Christ  of  late  than  ever ;  and  am  more 
and  more  convinced  that  the  knowledge  of  Christ  cru- 
cified is  the  one  thing  needful,  the  grand  source  of 
peace,  and  joy,  and  growth  in  grace.  Count  all  things 
loss  for  the  excellency  of  this  knowledge,  and  pray 
for  it  more  than  for  any  thing  else,  and  you  will  find 
it  to  be  so." 

To  a  brother  who  shrunk  from  his  duty  through  de 
pression  of  mind  and  an  erroneous  opinion  of  his  own 
qualifications  for  the  ministry.  Lest  any  should  use 
the  authority  of  Dr.  Payson's  name  to  urge  men  to  as 
sume  the  sacred  office  Avithout  the  requisite  qualifica- 
tions, it  ought  to  be  stated  that  the  person  addressed 


EDWARD   PAYSON.  367 

itt  the  following  letter,  besides  possessing  decided 
piety,  had  passed  through  a  regular  course  of  prepara- 
tory studies  at  a  theological  seminary : 

"  My  dear  Brother, 

"  Your  letter  found  me  more  than  ordinarily  hur- 
ried;  but  I  feel  it  to  be  so  important  that  you  should 
be  licensed  this  fall,  that  I  must  snatch  a  moment  to 
answer  it.  Your  feelings,  as  you  describe  them,  are 
just  like  mine,  only  less  aggravated  by  long  continu- 
ance. I  mention  this  that  you  may  pay  more  regard 
to  my  advice.  I  am  as  certain  that  it  is  best  for  you 
to  take  license  immediately,  as  I  can  be  of  any  thing. 
Rely  upon  it,  that  if  you  delay,  your  difficulties  will 
increase,  and  you  will  feel  more  and  more  as  if  it  was 
impossible  to  preach.  Your  only  safety  lies  in  placing 
yourself  in  circumstances  which  will  make  exertion 
necessary,  and  which  will  secure  divine  assistance. 
Never  mind  your  infirmities.  You  have  nothing  to  do 
with  them.  Your  business  is  to  trust,  and  go  forward. 
If  you  wait  till  the  sea  becomes  land,  you  will  never 
walk  on  it.  You  must  leave  the  ship,  and,  like  Peter, 
set  your  feet  upon  the  waves,  and  you  will  find  them 
marble.  Christ  is  a  good  Master.  He  wont  suffer  you 
to  sink ;  and  you  will  at  length  glory  in  your  infirmi- 
ties. I  would  not  give  up  the  precious  proofs  which 
I  have  received,  in  consequence  of  my  weakness,  of 
his  power,  faithfulness,  and  love,  for  all  the  comforts 
of  good  health.  But  be  assured,  that,  if  you  remain 
as  you  are,  Satan  will  w^eave  a  net  round  you  which 
you  will  never  break.  Every  mental  and  religious  ef- 
fort will  become  more  difficult  and  painful ;  your  mind 
will  be  like  the  body  of  a  rickety  child  j  you  will  live 


368  MEMOIR  OP 

a  burden  to  yourself  and  friends,  and  die  without  the 
consolation  of  having  been  made  useful.  This  would 
infallibly  have  been  my  fate,  had  I  not  been  thrust  into 
the  ministry  before  I  well  knew  what  I  was  about. 
Yet  you  see  I  have  somehow  or  other  been  carried 
along,  and  so  will  you  be.  Do  not  then,  my  dear, 
dear  brother,  stand  hesitating.  A  feeble,  nervous  man 
must  not  deliberate,  but  act ;  for  his  deliberation  will 
not  be  worth  a  straw,  but  his  activity  may  be,  and 
probably  will  be,  useful  both  to  himself  and  others. 

"  When  Christ  told  his  disciples  to  feed  the  multi- 
tude with  five  loaves,  they  did  not  hesitate  and  say, 
Lord,  let  us  first  see  the  bread  multiplied ;  if  we  be- 
gin, and  have  not  enough,  we  shall  be  put  to  shame — 
but  they  distributed  what  they  had,  and  it  increased  in 
the  distribution.  So  you  will  find  it.  You  must, 
therefore,  go  forward.  There  is  no  reason  why  you 
should  not.  If  you  delay,  indolence  will  steal  upon 
you,  and  bind  you  in  chains  which  you  will  never 
break. 

"  I  charge  you  then,  before  God  and  the  Lord  Jesus 
Christ,  to  be  up  and  doing.  There  are  fifty  places  in 
this  state  where  the  most  unconnected  things  which 
your  lips  could  utter  would  do  good,  and  be  well  re- 
ceived. You  have  no  conception  by  what  apparently 
feeble  means  God  often  works  wonders.  Let  the  next 
tidings  I  hear  from  you  be,  that  you  have  crossed  the 
Rubicon ;  or  rather  let  me  see  you  here  forthwith  in 
the  character  of  a  preacher. 

"  My  health  is  as  usual,  but  my  Master  is  more  than 
usually  kind.  At  my  request  the  church  lately  had  a 
special  meeting  to  pray  for  me.  God  has  heard  them, 
wonderfully,  and  my  cup  runs  over." 


EDWARD   PAYSON.  369 

Pradential  advice  on  the  preservation  of  health,  ad- 
dressed to  a  student  in  divinity : 

"My  dear  Brother. 

"  I  am  very  sorry  to  learn  that  your  health  is  not 
better,  but  rather  worse  than  when  I  Avas  at  R. 
Should  it  not  have  improved  before  you  receive  this, 
I  beg  you  will  attend  to  it  without  delay ;  attend  to  it 
as  your  first  and  chief  duty  ;  for  such  be  assured  it  is. 
'  A  merciful  man  is  merciful  to  his  beast ;'  and  you 
must  be  merciful  to  your  beast,  or,  as  Mr.  M.  would 
say,  to  your  '  animal.'  Remember  that  it  is  your  Mas- 
ter's property ;  and  he  will  no  more  thank  you  for 
driving  it  to  death,  than  an  earthly  master  would 
thank  a  servant  for  riding  a  valuble  horse  to  death, 
under  pretence  of  zeal  for  his  interest.  The  truth  is, 
I  am  afraid  Satan  has  jumped  on  to  the  saddle,  and 
when  he  is  there  in  the  guise  of  an  angel  of  light,  he 
whips  and  spurs  at  a  most  unmerciful  rate,  as  every 
joint  in  my  poor  broken-winded  animal  can  testify 
from  woful  experience.  He  has  temptations  for  the 
conscience,  as  Mr.  Newton  well  observes ;  and  when 
other  temptations  fail,  he  makes  great  use  of  them. 
Many  a  poor  creature  has  he  ridden  to  death,  by 
using  his  conscience  as  a  spur  ;  and  you  must  not  be 
ignorant,  nor  act  as  if  you  were  ignorant  of  his  de- 
vices. Remember  Mr.  Brainerd's  remark,  that  diver- 
sions rightly  managed,  increased  rather  than  dimi- 
nished his  spirituality.  I  now  feel  that  I  am  never 
serving  our  Master  more  acceptably  than  when  for 
his  sake  I  am  using  means  to  preserve  my  health  and 
lengthen  my  life  ;  and  you  must  feel  in  a  similar  man- 
ner, if  you  mean  to  do  him  much  service  in  the  world. 


370  MEMOIR   OP 

He  knows  what  you  would  do  for  him  if  you  could. 
He  knows  that  your  spirit  is  willing,  when  your  flesh 
is  weak.  Do  not  think  less  favorably  of  him  than  you 
would  of  a  judicious,  affectionate  father.  Do  not  think 
that  he  requires  you  to  labor,  when  such  a  father  would 
enjoin  rest  or  relaxation.  Ride,  then,  or  go  a  fishing, 
or  employ  yourself  in  any  way  which  will  exercise  the 
body  gently,  without  wearying  the  mind.  Above  all, 
make  trial  of  the  shower  bath.  You  can  easily  fix  up 
something  which  will  answer  the  purpose.  Try  it 
first,  about  ten  o'clock  in  the  morning,  Avhen  the  wea- 
ther is  warm ;  and  if  you  feel  a  gloAv  after  it,  it  does 
you  good ;  but  if  it  occasions  chilliness,  you  must  ra- 
ther try  a  warm  bath.  My  dear  brother,  do  attend  im- 
mediately to  these  hints,  for  much  depends  upon  it." 

To  two  young  sisters,  the  children  of  distant  friends  : 

"  I  wish  to  show  you  that  I  feel  a  deep  interest 

m  your  eternal  welfare,  and  am  willing  to  do  any  thing 
in  my  power  to  promote  it.  There  is  a  circumstance 
related  in  the  book  of  Judges,  respecting  the  early  part 
of  Samson's  life,  which  suggests  some  thoughts  that 
may  perhaps  be  useful  to  you.  We  are  there  told  that 
'  the  child  grew,  and  that  the  Lord  blessed  him,  and 
that  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord  began  to  move  him  at 
times.'  I  have  no  doubt  that,  in  a  little  different  sense, 
the  Spirit  of  God  begins  very  early  to  move,  at  times, 
upon  the  minds  of  children  and  young  persons;  espe- 
cially of  those  who,  like  Samson,  have  pious  parents, 
and  have  been,  like  him,  dedicated  to  God.  He  has 
thus,  I  believe,  at  times  moved  upon  your  minds. 
Have  you  not  reason  to  suppose  that  he  has  ?    Have 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  371 

you  not  sometimes  had  serious  thoughts  and  feelings 
arise  in  your  minds  without  any  apparent  cause  ? 
Have  you  not  found  something  within  you  which  urged 
upon  you  the  necessity  of  prayer,  of  remembering  your 
Creator,  and  of  preparing  for  death  ?  My  dear  young 
friends,  that  something  was  the  Spirit  of  God  moving 
upon  your  rninds.  Whenever  such  thoughts  and  feel- 
ings rise  without  any  external  cause,  you  may  be  cer- 
tain that  He  is  near  you.  Have  you  not  also  found 
that  reJigious  instruction  affects  you  very  differently 
at  different  times  ?  Sometimes,  perhaps,  it  scarcely 
affects  you  at  all.  At  other  limes  the  same  truths  take 
firm  hold  of  your  attention  and  excite  your  feelings. 
Now,  what  occasions  this  difference  ?  It  is  this.  At 
one  time  the  Spirit  of  God  presses  home  the  truth  upon 
your  minds  and  causes  it  to  affect  you.  At  another 
time  He  does  not  apply  it,  and  then  it  produces  no  ef- 
fect. Our  Savior,  you  recollect,  compares  the  opera- 
tions of  the  Spirit  to  those  of  the  wind.  Now,  when 
you  see  the  branches  of  a  tree  agitated  without  any 
visible  cause,  you  conclude  at  once  that  the  wind  is 
blowing  upon  them.  Just  so,  when  your  minds  are 
interested  and  affected  in  a  serious  manner  by  reli- 
gious considerations,  you  may  conclude  that  the  Holy 
Spirit  is  moving  upon  them.  And  can  you  not  recol- 
lect many  seasons,  or  at  least  some  seasons,  in  which 
He  has  thus  moved  upon  them?  If  so,  consider  how 
great  a  favor,  how  great  an  act  of  condescension  it 
was  on  the  part  of  God,  thus  to  visit  you.  Had  He 
sent  an  angel  from  heaven  to  warn  you,  you  would 
have  thought  it  a  great  favor.  You  would  have  been 
ready  to  ask  with  surprise.  Why  does  the  infinite, 
everlasting  God  condescend  to  send  an  angel  frora 


372  MEMOIR   OP 

heaven  to  promote  our  welfare  ?  Bui  for  God  to  send 
his  Spirit  to  move  upon  your  minds  is  a  much  greater 
favor,  a  much  greater  act  of  condescension,  than  it 
would  be  to  send  an  angel  to  you.  O  then  how  greatly 
ought  you  to  love  and  thank  him  for  such  a  favor,  and 
how  carefully  should  you  cherish,  how  humbly  should 
you  yield  to  the  motions  of  this  heavenly  visiter  !  Are 
you  still  favored  with  his  visits?  Does  he  still  move, 
at  times,  upon  your  minds  ?  If  so,  be  careful,  O  be 
scrupulously  careful  not  to  grieve  him,  and  cause 
him  to  forsake  you.  But  perhaps  he  has  already 
withdrawn  from  you.  If  so,  will  you  not  implore  his 
return?  Will  you  not,  after  reading  this,  kneel  down 
and  say,  'Lord,  1  have  ungratefully  neglected  and 
grieved  thy  good  Spirit,  and  he  has  justly  with- 
drawn from  me.  It  would  be  just  should  he  never 
return  to  me.  Yet,  in  thy  great  mercy,  let  him  return 
and  again  move  upon  my  mind ;  let  him  come,  and 
enlighten  and  sanctify  me.'  Let  this  be  your  daily 
urgent  request." 

To  his  parents,  under  various  and  accumulated  af- 
flictions : 

"  What  a  catalogue  of  trials  does  your  letter  con- 
tain !  I  am  more  and  more  convinced  of  what  1  have 
long  suspected,  that  God  tries  his  people,  first,  with 
inward,  spiritual  trials  ;  and  then,  when  they  have  Ac- 
quired some  degree  of  experience,  and  faith  has  be- 
come strong,  he  visits  them  with  outward  afflictions. 

"  Dr.  Owen  says  that  Heb.  12  :  6  ought  to  be  ren- 
dered, '  whom  the  Lord  loveth  he  chasteneth  ;  yea, 
also,  he  severely  chastiscth,  above  the  ordinary  mea- 
sure, those  sons  whom  he  accepts  and  peculiarly  rfe- 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  373 

lights  in.^  If  this  rendering  be  correct— and  the  doc- 
tor certainly  makes  it  appear  so — my  parents  have 
reason  to  think  themselves  special  favorites.  Perhaps, 
for  a  short  time  before  death,  God's  people  may  be,  in 
a  measure,  exempted  from  both  inward  and  outvsrard 
trials. 

"  I  have  tried  to  write,  because  your  letter  ought  to 
be  answered,  and  because  I  wished  to  write  something 
consolatory  under  your  afflictions  ;  but  I  can  only  echo 
back  your  groans  !" 

To  a  Christian  brother  of  rank  and  wealth  :  ^ 

"  I  have  thought  much  of  your  situation  since  I  left 
you.  It  is  but  seldom  that  God  gives  one  of  his  chil- 
dren so  many  temporal  blessings  as  he  has  given  you. 
He  has  hitherto  preserved  you,  and  will,  I  trust,  con- 
tinue to  preserve  you  from  the  evils  which  attend  a 
state  of  prosperity.  But  it  is,  as  you  are  aware,  a 
dangerous  state,  and  calls  for  great  watchfulness  and 
much  prayer.  You  are,  doubtless,  conscious  of  many 
evil  propensities  working  within ;  but  they  may  work 
long,  and  produce  much  internal  mischief  before  their 
effects  become  external  and  visible  to  others.  The  ef- 
fects of  temporal  prosperity  upon  the  mind  resemble 
those  of  an  unhealthy  atmosphere  upon  the  body.  The 
constitution  is  gradually  and  almost  insensibly  under- 
mined and  weakened ;  and  yet  no  particular  part  can 
be  pointed  out  as  the  seat  of  the  disease,  for  the  poison 
is  diffused  through  the  whole  system.  Spiritual  lassi- 
tude, the  loss  of  spiritual  appetite,  and  an  indisposi- 
tion to  vigorous  spiritual  exertion,  are  some  of  the  first 
'perceptible  symptoms  that  the  poison  of  prosperity  is 
at  work.  When  a  man  detects  these  symptoms  in  him- 

M.  p.  32^ 


374  MEMOIR   OF 

self,  it  is  time  for  him  to  be  alarmed.  If  he  delays  a 
little  longer,  the  disease  will  make  such  progress  as  to 
render  him  insensible  to  his  danger.  Were  I  placed 
in  such  a  situation  I  should  be  ruined  in  six  months. 
Still,  your  situation  is,  in  one  respect,  desirable.  It  ia 
one  in  which  you  may  do  much  for  the  glory  of  God 
and  the  promotion  of  his  cause." 

To  his  revered  mother,  on  leaving  her  habitation,  at 
the  final  dispersion  of  her  family,  August,  1824 1 

"My  dear  Mother, 

"  I  was  a  little  surprised,  when  you  were  with  us, 
to  hear  you  say  nothing  of  the  unpleasantness  of  being 
obliged,  at  your  age,  to  remove  far  from  the  place 
where  you  had  spent  so  many  years.  It  seemed  to  me 
that  such  a  removal  must  involve  many  circumstances 
which  would  be  very  disagreeable,  and  even  painful. 
But,  as  you  said  little  or  nothing  on  the  subject,  I  con- 
cluded that  it  did  not  appear  equally  unpleasant  to  you. 
It  seems  from  your  letter,  however,  that  the  time  of 
trial  had  not  then  arrived,  and  that  you  have  since 
been  troubled  about  your  removal,  as  I  expected  you 
would  be.  I  am  glad  to  find  that  the  trial  has  now  lost 
something  of  its  bitterness,  and  that  you  feel  recon- 
ciled to  go  where  Providence  cgilis.  You  have  some 
illustrious  examples  among  God's  ancient  servants  to 
encourage  and  instruct  you.  Abraham,  called  to  leave 
his  country  and  his  father's  house,  and  Jacob,  obliged 
in  his  old  age  to  go  down  into  Egypt,  had  trials  harder, 
probably,  than  yours,  though  of  the  same  nature.  But 
they  went,  and  God  went  with  them ;  and  he  will  go 
with  you ;  doubt  it  not.    On  the  other  hand,  see  how 


EDWARD   PAYSON.  375 

he  dealt  with  his  enemies.  '  Moab  hath  been  at  ease 
from  lis  youth,  and  hath  not  been  emptied  from  ves- 
sel tovressel ;  therefore  his  taste  remaineth  in  him,  and 
his  scent  is  not  changed.'  You  have  not  been  at  ease 
from  your  youth,  and  you  have  been  emptied  from  ves- 
sel to  vessel,  and  you  are  now  to  be  emptied  again 
from  3ne  vessel  to  another.  And  surely  this  is  better 
than  .0  be  treated  like  Moab.  and  possess  his  charac- 
ter. Besides,  as  God  said  to  Jacob  in  his  old  age, 
^  Fea?  not  to  go  down  into  Eg-^^pt;'  so  he  says  to  you, 
'  Fea{  not  to  go  wherever  I  call ;  for  my  presence  shall 
go  with  you.'  I  hope  you  feel  no  anxieties  of  a  pecu- 
niary nature.  While  one  of  your  children  has  any 
thing,  you  will  not  wai:t.  But  why  do  I  say  this? 
Rather  let  me  say,  The  Lord  is  your  Shepherd,  and, 
while  he  possesses  any  thing,  you  shall  not  want. 
Poor  ****j  too,  will  be  taken  care  of.  As  to  *******j  I 
can  only  say  once  more,  Leave  him  with  his  Master. 
He  inows  what  to  do  with  him,  and  he  will  do  all 
things  well.  If  he  chooses  rather  that  ****=!^***  should 
suffer,  he  will  overrule  all  his  sufferings  for  good. 
Only  pray  for  him,  and  then  leave  him. 

'•I  preached  yesterday  on  this  passage  : — '  Though 
he  will  not  give  him  because  he  is  his  friend,  yet,  be- 
cause of  his  importunity  he  will  rise  and  give  him 
as  many  as  he  needeth.'  This,  as  well  as  the  paraole 
of  the  unjust  judge,  evidently  teaches  that  importu- 
nate prayer  will  prevail  w^hen  nothing  else  can.  A  man 
mar  pray  ten  times,  and  be  denied ;  and  yet,  by  pray- 
ing ten  times  more,  obtain  the  blessing.  Had  the  Syro- 
Phcenician  ceased  after  making  three  applications  to 
Christ,  she  should  have  gone  away  empty ;  but,  by  ap- 
plying once  more,  she  obtained  all  that  she  asked. 


376  MEMOIR   OF 

"  It  has  been  a  time  of  trial  with  me,  as  well  is  with 
you,  since  we  parted.  I  have  been  reduced  lower,  m 
point  of  health,  than  on  any  former  occasion.  For  four 
weeks  I  was  unable  to  preach,  and  doubted  whether  I 
should  ever  preach  more.  But  this  was  all  my-  trial^ 
and  I  was  kept  very  quiet.  My  sermon  on  '  Bt  still,'' 
&c.  followed  me,  and  God  in  mercy  inclined  me  to> 
be  still.  My  people  urged  me  very  strongly  to  nake  a 
voyage  to  Europe,  and  offered  to  supply  the  pulfit  and 
pay  all  my  expenses.  But,  though  I  should  liki  well 
enough  to  see  Europe,  I  could  not  feel  any  freedom  to 
go.  I  did  not  like  to  have  so  much  expense  la^^ished 
upon  me,  nor  did  I  know  how  to  lose  so  much  time  as 
such  a  voyage  would  require.  I  am  now  betttr,  and 
have  been  able  to  preach  the  three  last  Sabbaths.  But 
I  seem  to  preach  in  vain.  There  is  no  noise  nor  shak- 
ing among  the  dry  bones ;  and,  even  of  the  chu-ch,  1 
may  almost  say.  There  is  no  breath  in  them.  But  I 
am  kept  from  impatience,  and  am  not  quite  discou- 
raged. As  I  know  how  desirous  you  feel  that  your 
children  should  love  each  other,  I  would  tell  you,  if  I 
could,  how  much  I  love  E.  I  loved  her  much  before 
her  last  visit,  and  she  endeared  herself  still  more  to  us 
during  that  visit.  I  believe,  too,  that  I  love  my  bro- 
thers pretty  well.  Do  tell  them  so.  What  you  say  re- 
specting the  complaints  of  ministers  who  visit  is,  I 
have  heard  before.  I  do  not  wonder  at  it.  They  nave 
some  reason  to  complain.  But  the  reason  of  our  appa- 
rent coldness  is  what  you  suppose  it  to  be.  Pressed 
down  to  the  very  dust  as  I  usually  am,  I  cannot  al- 
ways dress  my  countenance  in  smiles,  nor  prevent  it 
from  expressing  my  sufferings.  Hence  I  am  unpopu- 
lar among  ministers.   It  is  a  trial,  but  I  cannot  help  it." 


EDWARD    PAYPON.  3T7 


CHAPTER    XVIII. 

His  private  character — His  affections  and,  demeanor  as  a  hus- 
band, father,  master,  friend — His  gratitude,  economy,  gene- 
rosity— His  temper  of  mind  under  injuries. 

It  is  not  ever)^  character  that  will  bear  a  close  in- 
spection. The  more  intimately  some  men  are  view- 
ed, the  less  veneration  and  respect  are  felt  for  them. 
This  is  true  of  some  in  elevated  stations,  and  pos- 
sessing no  small  share  of  public  confidence.  Even 
the  church  presents  this  anomaly.  A  man  may  bear 
a  saint-like  visage  abroad,  and  yet  be  a  very  fiend  in 
his  own  family ;  may  put  on  meekness  and  devotion 
in  a  worshiping  assembly,  while  he  is  the  haughty 
tyrant  of  his  wife  and  children ;  may  preach  self-de- 
nial and  condescension,  and  yet  carry  it  lordly  towards 
the  inmates  of  his  own  dwelling,  making  them  the 
ministers  of  his  Avill  and  pleasure,  or  else  imbittering 
their  existence  by  his  savage  temper  and  unreasona- 
ble complaints. 

Professional  men,  whose  public  duties  are  very  nu- 
merous and  urgent,  are  liable  to  fail  in  many  of  those 
minute  regards  which  contribute  so  much  to  heighten 
the 

''  only  bliss 

"Of  paradise  which  has  survived  the  fall." 

With  the  prevailing  desire  and  purpose  to  yield  to 
every  claim  its  due  consideration,  they  are  in  danger 
of  thinking  that  they  do  well  if  they  are  only  indiffer- 
enit  to  those  of  the  least  imposing  description  which 
originate  in  their  domestic  relations ;  that  they  are  not 
;m.  p.  32* 


378  MEMOIR   OF 

only  excusable,  but  disinterested  and  praiseworthy 
in  neglecting,  from  devotion  to  the  public  welfare, 
the  ten  thousand  little  attentions  to  a  wife's  comfort 
and  children's  instruction  and  enjoyment,  which, 
though  each  requires  but  a  moment's  time,  and,  taken 
singly,  scarcely  deserves  specification,  constitute,  in 
the  aggregate,  the  principal  part  of  domestic  felicity. 
Cut  a  man's  circumstances  must  be  very  peculiar,  to 
render  these  two  classes  of  duties  incompatible  with 
each  other.  The  look  of  affection,  the  kind  Avord  sea- 
sonably interposed,  the  helping  hand  which  love  ex- 
tends, the  eye  ever  awake  to  anticipate  the  little  wants 
of  the  household,  the  heart  prompt  to  seize  opportu- 
nities to  soothe  sorrow,  to  calm  excited  feelings,  to 
mspire  and  promote  joy,  and  to  alleviate  the  burden 
of  maternal  anxieties  and  cares  which  press  inces- 
santly upon  the  wife — w^hat  sacrifice  of  public  duty 
do  these  require  ?  Yet  who  can  calculate  the  misery 
w^hich  they  prevent,  or  the  blessedness  which  they 
confer?  As  it  is  not  great  calamities  which  render 
men  unhappy,  but  petty  injuries,  and  provocations, 
and  disappointments,  constantly  recurring,  too  trifling 
to  excite  public  sympathy,  or  to  be  made  the  subject 
of  loud  complaint — so  it  is  not  insulated  acts  of  pro- 
fuse generosity,  and  widely  separated,  though  extra- 
vagant expressions  of  affection,  which  constitute  the 
reality  or  the  happiness  of  friendship — especially  of  a 
friendship  so  pure  and  endearing  as  ought  ever  to  sub- 
sist between  those  who  are  united  by  conjugal  ties. 
These  holy  bonds  are  cemented  and  strengthened 
by  daily  and  hourly  acts  and  expressions  of  kind- 
ness. And  where,  in  the  whole  compass  of  mo- 
tives, could  a  consideration  be  found  to  enforce  th  is 


EDWARD   PAYSON.  379 

conjugal  tenderness,  so  afTecting  and  impressive  as 
that  example  of  love  to  which  St.  Paul  refers  the  hus- 
band for  a  pattern  of  his  own  duty  ? — and  it  may  be 
added,  what  other  reference  could  have  conferred  such 
exalted  honor  on  the  marriage  relation  ? — "  Husbands, 
love  your  wives,  even  as  Christ  also  loved  the  church. 
Be  not  bitter  against  them."  This  was  Dr.  Payson's 
law  in  all  -that  pertained  to  conjugal  duties ;  and  to 
this  his  daily  practice  exhibited  as  exact  a  conformity 
perhaps  as  is  ever  seen  in  this  state  of  imperfection. 
Reasons  have  already  been  suggested  why  a  sparing 
use  should  be  made  of  those  letters  which  exhibit  his 
tenderness  and  fidelity  in  this  relation ;  but  a  few  ex- 
tracts may  with  propriety  be  introduced  : 

"  At  Sea,  May  10,  1815. 
"My  dear  Wife, 

"  As  this  is  the  first  time  I  have  had  occasion  to 
address  a  letter  to  you  since  we  were  married,  I 
thought  it  necessary  before  I  began,  to  consider  a  few 
moments  by  what  title  to  address  you.  The  result  ot 
my  meditations  was  a  determination  to  employ  the 
term  '  wife  '  in  preference  to  any  other.  If  you  ask 
why  I  prefer  that  name,  I  answer,  Because  it  reminds 
me  that  you  are  mine,  my  own.  I  might  call  you 
'Dear  Louisa,'  'Dear  friend,'  or  'Dear'  any  thing 
else — and  it  might  mean  only  that  you  were  a  sister, 
a  friend,  or  a  favorite.  But  when  I  call  you  'My 
wife,'  It  seems  to  me  to  mean  every  thing  sweet, 
amiable,  and  endearing.  It  not  only  reminds  me  that 
she  to  wbom  I  write  is,  under  God,  mine,  but  that  she 
is  mine  by  the  gift  and  appointment  of  God — mine  by 
the  sacred  bond  of  marriage,  which  seems  to  give  an 


380  MEMOIR    OF 

air  of  sacredness  to  our  union.  After  all,  I  have  not 
said  what  I  meant  to  say,  but  something  a  little  like 
it.  So  do  you  try  to  imagine  what  I  meant  to  say, 
and  then  confess  that  I  have  succeeded  better  than 
you,  in  choosing  a  title  Avith  which  to  head  a  letter 
For  my  own  part  I  would  rather  you  should  call  me 
'Dear  husband,'  than  'Dear  friend,'  or  'Dear  Ed- 
ward,' (fee.  However,  call  me  by  what  'name  you 
please,  your  letters  will  always  be  precious  while 
they  continue  to  utter  the  language  of  affection.  I 
have  just  been  reading  one  of  two  which  I  have  al- 
ready found  among  my  baggage.  If  you  kncAv  the 
pleasure  they  gave  me,  you  would  feel  well  paid  for 
the  trouble  of  writing.  I  fully  intended  to  write  at 
least  one  to  you,  and  leave  it  behind  me ;  but  I  could 
think  of  no  place  to  put  it,  in  which  you  would  be  cer- 
tain to  find  it.  But  I  must  hasten  to  give  you  some 
account  of  our  voyage  : 

"  Frid'.iy  and  Saturday  we  had  fair  winds  and  plea- 
sant v/eu  her,  and  I  was  not  at  all  sea-sick.  But  on 
Sunday  il  began  to  rain  and  blow  hard.  In  the  even- 
ing it  increased  to  quite  a  gale,  but  was  still  favorable ; 
so  that,  ua  Monday  noon,  we  found  ourselves,  by  ob 
servation,  ninety  miles  south  of  Philadelphia.  Since 
that  time  we  have  been  beating  about,  vainly  trying 
to  get  within  the  capes  of  Delaware.  We  have  just 
taken  a  pilot  on  board,  and  hope  to  reach  Philadelphia 
in  about  forty-eight  hours.  Since  the  gale  on  Sunday 
the  doctor  and  1  have  been  very  sick,  and  able  to  eat 
nothing.  For  two  days  and  nights.  Without  intermis- 
sion, I  was  tormented  with  one  of  my  nervous  head- 
aches. This  morning  it  has  left  me.  and  I  begin  to  feel 
something  like  an  appetite.    I  will  only  add  now,  as 


EDWARD   PAYSON.  381 

an  excuse  for  writing  so  miserably,  that  I  am  at  this 
moment  tossing  and  rolling  about  worse  than  a  boy  in 
a  swing,  or  on  the  end  of  a  plank.  Every  thing  near 
me,  which  is  movable,  rolls  from  side  to  side  inces- 
santly ;  and  I  should  do  the  same,  did  I  not  hold  on 
to  something  stable.  I  will  therefore  defer  the  con- 
clusion of  my  letter  till  I  am  more  established. 

"  Philadelphia,  May  11. 

"  We  arrived  here  last  night  after  a  most  delightful 
sail  up  the  Delaware.  Wind  and  tide  both  favored  us, 
so  that  we  came  at  the  rate  of  eleven  miles  an  hour, 
for  ten  hours  successively.  Scarcely  ever  have  I  ex- 
perienced so  much  pleasure  in  one  day.     Every  body 

seemed  happy.     Dr. and  I  were  in  high  health 

and  spirits  ;  the  prospect  on  the  banks  of  the  river  was 
delightful,  and  changing  every  moment ;  the  day  was 
fine,  and  the  swiftness  of  our  motion  was  very  agree- 
able ;  and,  to  crown  all,  I  saw  God  in  his  works,  and 
tasted  of  his  goodness  in  every  thing.  Excess  of  plea- 
sure was  almost  painful ;  before  night  I  was  fairly 
weary  of  enjoyment,  and  wished  for  sleep.  I  thought 
of  you  almost  every  moment ;  and  nothing  but  the  pre- 
sence of  yourself  and  the  children  was  wanting  to  ren- 
der me  as  happy  as  I  can  ever  be  in  this  world.  Last 
night  I  dreamed  that  I  had  reached  home.  I  felt  your 
tears  of  affection  upon  my  cheek,  and  little  Edward's 
arms  round  my  neck  ;  but  I  awoke,  and  it  was  a  dream. 
I  have  not  yet  been  ashore.  Every  body  on  board  is 
in  a  bustle-;  the  passengers  hastening  to  visit  their 
friends,  and  I  standing  away  in  one  corner  alone,  talk- 
ing with  my  best,  dearest  earthly  friend.  You,  at  the 
distance  of  five  hundred  miles,  have  more  attractions 


382  MEMOIR    OF 

for  me  than  the  whole  city  of  Philadelphia,  which  lies 
spread  out  before  me,  and  on  which  I  have  scarcely, 
as  yet,  bestowed  a  glance.  Tf  I  did  not  write  thus 
early  I  should  not  be  able  to  send  my  letter  to-day  ; 
and  you  would  be  obliged  to  wait  one  day  longer  be- 
fore you  heard  from  us.  I  now  begin  to  regret  that  I 
did  not  urge  you  more  to  meet  me  at  New  Haven.  It 
would  be  a  great  gratification  to  have  you  so  much 
nearer  to  me,  and  to  think  of  meeting  you  so  much 
sooner.  I  still  have  a  faint  hope  that  you  will  be 
there. 

"  Kiss  the  children  for  me  ;  talk  to  them  about  me  ; 
love  me,  as  I  do  you,  better  than  I  did — yes,  far  better 
than  I  did,  when  I  wrote  the  last  letter  to  you  before 
we  were  married.  Love  to  all  who  inquire  for  me. 
God  be  with  you,  bless  you,  keep  you,  my  dear,  dear 
wife. 

"  So  prays  your  affectionate  husband." 

In  a  letter  written  during  another  season  of  absence 
is  the  following  beautiful  passage,  in  which  the  gentle 
and  the  severe  are  most  charmingly  blended  : 

''  Though  your  letter  was  consoling,  it  grieved 

me  for  a  moment.  It  did  not  seem  to  breathe  so  much 
tenderness  as  your  former  letters  ;  but  I  soon  perceiv- 
ed the  reason.  Your  mind  was  braced  up  to  help  me 
to  bear  my  b'lrJens;  and  in  such  a  state  of  mind  it  is 
not  easy  to  foci  or  express  tenderness.  I  hope  you  will 
remember  this  remark.  You  know  that  I  am  often 
obliged,  while  at  home,  to  put  on  all  the  iron  I  can 
command,  in  order  to  bear  up  against  trials  and  dis- 
couragements ;  and  many  times,  when  you  know  no- 
thing of  it,  I  am  engaged  in  most  distressing  inward 


j:i)vvaku  i'ayso.v.  [\S3 

conflicts.  Now,  liow  can  a  man  sccin  tender  and  af- 
fectionate at  such  a  lime?  Mow  could  a  soldier,  in  tlu! 
iieat  of  battle,  slop  to  smile  upon  his  wife  or  kiss  his 
cliildren  ?  Kvcn  if  he  spoke  to  them  at  such  a  time, 
the  hi;{hly  raised  state  of  iiis  feelings  would  prohahly 
give  something  like  sharpness  to  his  voice,  JJut  I  for- 
bear excuses.  Christ  was  tender  and  allectionalt!  in 
the  severest  agonies,  the  most  ilistressing  conllicts. 
1  hope,  if  I  am  ever  ])ermilted  to  return,  you  will  find 
me  a  little  more  like  him  than  I  have  been." 

In  his  strictly  domestic  letters  he  sometimes  hits  ofi* 
the  dilVerent  humors,  peculiarities,  relations  and  cir- 
cumstances of  himself  and  his  connections  with  inim- 
itable vivacity,  and  a  sportiveness  which  shows  how 
ho  could  unbend  himself  when  occasion  required.  A 
short  passaije  from  the  close  of  one  such  letter  will 
serve  as  a  specimen  of  the  qualities  alluded  to;  and, 
like  his  satire  upon  quackery,  may  serve  a  more  uii- 
portant  purpose  than  mere  amusement.  In  the  keen 
irony  which  pervades  it,  is  an  eflectual  rel)uk(!  of  that 
doating  i)nrtiality  which  leads  so  many  parents  to 
think  their  own  children  prodijj^ies  of  gimius  : 

"  As  to  baby,  she  is  to  be  the  greatest  genius  and 
the  greatest  beauty  in  these  parts,  1  could  easily  fill  a 
sheet  with  proofs  of  her  talents,  Sufli(;e  it  to  say  that 
she  has  four  teeth;  stands  alone;  says  /;a' and  vki''  ; 
no — 710— very  stoutly ;  and  has  been  whipped  several 
times  for  being  wiser  tjian  her  father." 

With  a  heart  always  more  ready  to  confer  favors 
than  to  receive  them,  his  condition  was  very  frequent- 
ly such,  that  he  needed  rathor  "  to  be  ministered  unto 
»han  to  minister;"  but  the  most  agonizing  sullerings  of 


384  MEMOIR   OF 

body,  when  exempted  from  depression  of  mind,  never 
rendered  him  the  less  cheerful  and  agreeable  husband 
and  father.  It  is  astonishing  how  "  lightly  he  esteemed 
such  afflictions.*'  They  seemed  to  affect  him  almost 
as  little  as  violence  inflicted  on  a  block  or  a  stone.  His 
demeanor  under  bodily  agonies  has  often  been  such, 
that  he  was  rather  envied  than  pitied  by  his  family 
and  attendants.  These  were,  indeed,  seasons  of  unu- 
sual gayety  and  cheerfulness.  He  has  left  a  descrip- 
tion of  the  accumulated  evils  that  were  crowded  into 
a  few  days,  into  which  his  playful  imagination  has 
thrown  so  much  of  humor  as  to  divest  the  subject  of 
its  repulsive  character,  and  clothe  it  with  no  ordinary 
attractions.  But  it  is  chiefly  interesting  as  an  illustra- 
tion of  a  happy  temper  : 

"  Since  I  wrote  last  I  have  been  called  to  sing 

of  mercy  and  judgment.  My  old  friend  the  Sick  Head- 
ache has  favored  me  with  an  unusual  share  of  his 
company,  and  has  seemed  particularly  fond  of  visiting 
me  on  the  Sabbath.  Then  came  Cholera  Morbus,  and, 
in  a  few  hours  reduced  me  so  low  that  I  could  have 
died  as  easily  as  not.  Rheumatism  next  arrived,  eager 
to  pay  his  respects,  and  embraced  my  right  shoulder 
with  such  ardor  of  affection  that  he  had  well  nigh  torn 
it  from  its  socket.  I  had  not  thought  much  of  this  gen- 
tleman's powers  before ;  but  he  has  convinced  me  of 
them  so  thoroughly,  that  I  shall  think  and  speak  of 
them  with  respect  as  long  as  I  live.  Not  content  with 
giving  me  his  company  all  day  for  a  fortnight  toge- 
ther, he  has  insisted  on  sitting  up  with  me  every  night, 
and,  what  is  worse,  made  me  sit  up  t,oo.  During  this 
time  my  poor  shoulder,  neck  and  back  seemed  to  be 
a  place  in  which  the  various  pains  and  aches  had  as- 


EDWARD    PAY  SON.  385 

lembled  to  keep  holyday ;  and  the  delectable  sensa- 
tions of  stinging,  pricking,  cutting,  lacerating,  wrench- 
ing, burning,  gnawing,  &c.  succeeded  each  other,  or 
all  mingled  together,  in  a  confusion  that  was  far  from 
being  pleasing.  The  cross  old  gentleman,  though  his 
zeal  is  somewhat  abated  by  the  fomentations,  blisters, 
&c.  with  which  we  welcomed  him,  still  stands  at  my 
back,  threatening  that  he  will  not  allow  me  to  finish 
my  letter.  But  enough  of  him  and  his  companions. 
Let  me  leave  them  for  a  more  pleasing  theme. 

"  God  has  mercifully  stayed  his  rough  wind  in  the 
day  of  his  east  wind.  No  horrible,  heil-born  tempta- 
tions, no  rheumatism  of  the  mind  has  been  allowed  to 
visit  me  in  my  sufferings ;  but  such  consolations,  such 
heavenly  visits  as  turned  agony  into  pleasure,  and 
constrained  me  to  sing  aloud  whenever  I  could  catch 
my  breath  long  enough  to  utter  a  stanza.  Indeed,  I 
have  been  ready  to  doubt  whether  pain  be  really  an 
evil ;  for,  though  more  pain  was  crowded  into  last 
week  than  any  other  week  of  my  life,  yet  it  was  one 
of  the  happiest  weeks  I  ever  spent.  And  now  I  am 
ready  to  say,  Come  what  will  come — sickness,  pain, 
agony,  poverty,  loss  of  friends — only  let  God  come  with 
them,  and  they  shall  be  welcome.  Praised,  blessed  for 
ever  be  his  name  for  all  my  trials  and  afflictions  !  There 
has  not  been  one  too  many — all  were  necessary,  and 
good,  and  kind." 

How  perfectly  versed  was  he  in  the  heavenly  art  of 
extracting  the  choicest  sweets  from  the  bitterest  cup  ! 
"  honey  out  of  the  rock,  and  oil  out  of  the  flinty  rock." 
How  much  anguish  must  such  a  demeanor  under  suf- 
ferings have  saved  "  the  partners  of  his  blood  !"  What 
rare  and  exquisite  enjoyment  must  it  have  imparted  to 

M.  p.  .  33 


386  ME310IR   OP 

them,  to  witness  a  happiness  which  the  calamities  of 
life  could  not  mar  !  It  was  surely  an  enviable  privi- 
lege to  enjoy  instructions  rendered  so  emphatical  and 
impressive  by  the  circumstances  of  the  teacher. 

In  another  extract  may  be  seen  the  lender  yearnings 
of  a  father's  heart — a  heart,  nevertheless,  in  a  state  of 
sweet  subjection  to  "  the  Father  of  spirits,  who  chast- 
eneth  us  for  our  profit,  that  we  may  be  partakers  of  his 
holiness :" 

"  May  13,  1816. 

•'Your  welcome  letter,  my  dear  mother,  has  just  ar- 
rived. You  would  pity  me,  if  you  knew  in  what  cir- 
cumstances I  sit  down  to  answer.  For  ten  days  I 
have  been  in  what  Dr.  Young  calls  the  post  of  obser- 
vation, darker  every  hour.  Poor  little  Caroline  lies  be- 
fore me,  writhing  under  the  agonies  of  dropsy  in  the 
head.  The  physicians  have  given  her  over.  Louisa 
sits  before  me  making  her  shroud  ;  yet  she  will  pro- 
bably live  a  week  longer ;  her  distress  increasing  every 
day,  till  death  closes  it.  I  thought  that  I  was  almost 
without  natural  affection  ;  that  I  did  not  love  my  chil- 
dren ;  but  I  find  to  my  cost  that  I  do.  Her  distress 
wrings  every  nerve  and  fibre  of  my  heart.  If  you 
have  ever  seen  a  person  die  of  this  dreadful  disor- 
der, I  need  not  describe  it.  If  you  have  not,  descrip- 
tion can  give  you  but  little  idea  of  it.  I  am,  however, 
mercifully  spared  the  keener  distress  of  being  unre- 
conciled to  the  trial.  As  yet,  I  can  bless  the  name  of 
the  Lord,  and  I  bless  him  that  I  can.  Whether  I  shall 
continue  to  feel  so  to  the  end,  he  only  knows.  It  is  pain- 
ful to  see  her  suffer  for  my  sins.  It  is  dreadful  to  think 
of  having  provoked  such  a  being  as  God  is,  to  inflict  such 


EDWARD   PAYSOJi.  387 

ftulferings.  But  it  is  right.  The  affliction  is  too  light, 
as  indeed  every  affliction  short  of  eternal  death  would 
be.  I  find  a  great  difference  between  the  effect  of  suf- 
fering in  my  own  person,  and  in  the  person  of  another. 
Personal  sufferings  seem  to  harden  the  heart,  and 
make  me  selfish,  so  that  I  can  feel  little  for  others.  They 
will  drag  one's  attention  home  to  himself.  But  suffer- 
ing in  the  person  of  another  seems  to  have  an  effect 
directly  opposite,  and  is,  thei  efore,  more  beneficial.  I 
needed  some  such  trial,  to  leach  me  how  to  sympa- 
thize with  my  people  in  simi  lar  circumstances." 

For  more  than  a  week  ai  terwards  he  watched  this 
child,  "  struggling  between  life  and  death" — the  victim 
of  complicated  diseases,  the  effects  of  which  it  would 
be  difficult  to  describe,  and  almost  congeal  one's  blood 
to  read.  Yet  he  v/as  calm  "  as  the  morning  when 
the  sun  ariseth ;"  and  though  his  health  was  impair- 
ed by  watching,  in  addition  to  his  labors,  he  says  of 
this  season — "  it  has  been,  on  the  whole,  a  happy  week. 
I  have  been  unusually  free  from  spiritual  trials ;  and  any 
thing  which  frees  me  from  them  is  a  blessing.  Be  not 
distressed  on  our  account.  We  are  happy,  and  can  sing 
'  sweet  affliction,'  &c.  I  would  not  but  have  had  it  on 
any  account." 

It  will  add  nothing  to  the  strength  of  the  impression 
produced  by  these  extracts,  to  say  that  he  was  a  most 
kind  and  tender  husband,  a  most  faithful  and  affection- 
ate father ;  but  it  is  adding  something  to  their  import 
to  affirm  that,  in  him,  these  qualities  were  uniform,  and 
manifested  in  his  daily  intercourse  with  his  household. 

He  Avas  the  companion  of  his  children.  Not  unfre- 
quently  would  he  descend,  as  it  were,  to  their  level, 


38S  MEMOIR   OF 

and  mingle  for  a  few  moments  in  their  pastimes,  and 
even  invent  new  diversions  for  them;  particularly- 
such  as  would  call  forth  exertions  of  skill  and  inge- 
nuity— so  that  their  very  amusements  might  prove  a 
profitable  exercise,  and  contribute  to  the  developement 
of  their  intellectual  faculties.  Games  of  chance,  and 
every  thing  which  bore  a  distant  resemblance  to  them, 
he  utterly  disallowed.  He  delighted  to  amuse  them 
with  pictures,  at  the  same  time  pouring  into  their 
minds  a  knowledge  of  the  arts,  or  of  historical  charac- 
ters, or  of  geographical  and  statistical  facts,  or  of  the 
natural  history  of  animals,  or  whatever  else  would  be 
most  readily  suggested  by  the  picture. 

Often  would  he  entertain  his  children,  either  from 
the  stores  of  his  own  memory  or  from  his  still  richer 
invention,  with  tales  and  fables ;  from  which  it  was 
their  task  to  deduce  the  moral,  as  an  exercise  of  their 
perceptive  and  reasoning  faculties,  in  pay  for  the  en- 
tertainment which  he  had  afforded  them.  If  they  failed, 
he  would,  of  course,  make  the  application  himself. 

So  far  as  he  exerted  himself  for  the  intellectual  ad- 
vancement of  his  children,  he  did  it  not  so  much  by 
set  lessons  and  at  seasons  set  apart  for  that  purpose 
exclusively,  as  by  incidental  instructions.  There 
were  many  days  when  his  engagements  left  him 
no  time  to  meet  them,  except  at  their  meals  ;  then — 
indeed  it  was  his  common  practice — he  would  im- 
prove the  time  spent  at  the  table  for  this  purpose — pro- 
posing various  questions,  and  inviting  inquiries  from 
them,  always  leaving  them  with  a  subject  for  consi- 
deration, and  often  calling  upon  them  at  night  to  men- 
tion any  new  idea  which  they  had  acquired  during  the 
day.     He  Avas  much  devoted  to  the  welfare  of  his 


EDWARD   PAYS  ON.  389 

children ;  and  his  cares,  burdens  and  maladies  were 
oppressive  indeed,  when  they  did  not  share  a  father's 
attentions. 

To  instruct  them  in  religion  was  of  course  his  first 
care.  Here,  also,  he  wisely  consulted  their  age  and 
capacities,  and  imparted  it  in  measure  and  kind  as 
they  were  able  to  bear.  He  doubted  the  expediency 
of  giving  religious  instruction  only  at  stated  periods, 
and  dealing  it  out  with  parade  and  formality,  and  in 
tedious  addresses.  His  motto  was — "  Line  upon  line, 
precept  upon  precept ;  here  a  little,  and  there  a  little," 
as  occasion  offered,  or  the  emergency  demanded. 

But  he  was  master  as  well  as  father;  "one  that 
ruled  well  his  own  house,  having  his  children  in  sub- 
jection with  all  gravity."  He  habitually  explained  his 
commands  to  such  of  his  children  as  were  of  sufficient 
age  to  understand  and  appreciate  them ;  and  always 
referred  to  the  Scriptures  as  the  umpire  from  whose 
decision  there  was  no  appeal.  "  The  Bible  says  thus," 
was  the  invariable  and  ultimate  argument  for  enforc- 
ing obedience.  Appeals  of  this  kind  contribute  greatly 
to  inspire  an  early  reverence  for  the  sacred  book.  It 
was  a  willing  obedience,  and  from  exalted  principles, 
which  he  aimed  to  secure. 

He  treated  his  domestics  as  if  he  believed  that  "God 
made  of  one  blood  all  the  people  that  dwell  upon  the 
earth" — as  if  he  expected  to  stand  wdth  them  at  the 
bar,  where  "  he  shall  have  judgment  without  mercy, 
who  hath  showed  no  mercy."  They  shared  his  re- 
ligious instructions,  and  were  remembered  in  his 
prayers.  He  also  exacted  of  his  children,  as  an  invio- 
lable duty,  kind  and  considerate  treatment  towards 
the  domestics.    To  several  of  them  his  counsels  and 

M.  p.  33* 


390  MEMOIR   OF 

prayers  were  blessed.  To  one  who  had  been  anxious 
for  her  own  salvation  in  consequence  of  his  previous 
fidelity,  and  apparently  lost  her  impressions,  he  affec- 
tionately said,  as  she  entered  the  parlor  bearing  a 
pitcher  of  water — "I  hope  the  time  may  never  come 
when  you  will  long  for  a  drop  of  that  water  to  cool 
your  tongue."  It  was  a  word  in  season — she  became 
a  Christian.  Another  was  about  to  leave  his  family 
for  a  gay  circle,  with  the  prospect  of  entering  a  new 
relation,  from  which  he  apprehended  danger  to  hei 
soul.  At  family  prayer,  the  last  time  she  was  expect- 
ed to  be  present,  he  prayed  that  the  separation  might 
not  be  eternal.  The  petition  was  remembered ;  she 
soon  returned  to  her  service  in  his  family,  exhibited 
evidence  of  conversion,  and  afterwards  died  in  faith. 

In  his  family  devotions  he  was  never  tedious.  They 
were  always  impressive,  and  adapted  with  surprising 
appropriateness  to  the  existing  circumstances  of  the 
household.  He  delighted  to  address  Jehovah  through 
Christ,  as  his  God  by  covenant;  and  hence  he  derived 
some  of  those  powerful  arguments  which  he  pleaded 
in  interce*;sion  for  his  children,  and  one  strong  ground 
of  hope  that  God  would  convert  and  save  them. 

To  obtain  any  adequate  conception  of  the  manner 
in  which  God  was  acknowledged  and  honored  in  his 
habitation,  recourse  must  be  had,  as  in  other  instances, 
to  his  own  language  : 

''April,  1816. 

"Another  precious  passage  is  that  in  Zecha- 

riah,  'In  that  day  shall  there  be  upon  the  bells  of  the 
horses.  Holiness  to  the  Lord,''  &c.  I  preached  on  it 
lately,  and,  among  other  things,  observed  that,  in  that 
day,  every  action  would  be  performed  as  the  most  so- 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  391 

lemn  religious  duties  are  now ;  every  house  and  place 
would  be  a  temple ;  every  day  like  a  Sabbath ;  and 
every  meal  like  the  Lord's  supper.  We  have  since 
been  trying  to  have  the  prophecy  fulfilled  at  our  house ; 
and,  though  Ave  succeed  miserably  enough,  yet  the  bare 
attempt  has  given  us  a  happiness  unknown  before.  One 
thing  which  has  been  greatly  blessed  to  us,  is  having 
family  prayer  at  noon  as  well  as  morning  and  evening. 
It  showed  us  how  far  we  often  get  from  God  during 
the  day,  even  Avhen  we  begin  and  close  it  with  him. 
In  some  families  this  Avould  be  impossible ;  and  tlien 
half  an  hour  spent  alone  would  answer  the  purpose  as 
well.  I  find  it  requires  almost  constant  rubbing  and 
chafing  to  make  the  blood  circulate  in  such  frozen 
souls  as  ours ;  and,  after  all,  it  avails  nothing,  if  the 
Sun  of  Righteousness  does  not  shine." 

Dr.  Payson  was  the  father  of  eight  children,  two  of 
whom,  a  son  and  a  daughter,  he  followed  to  the  grave. 
Six  survive  him,  two  daughters  and  four  sons. 

Many  persons  were  honored  with  a  large  share  of 
Dr.  Payson's  confidence ;  but  it  is  very  doubtful  whe- 
ther he  ever  poured  out  all  the  feelings  of  his  bosom 
to  any  beyond  his  nearest  relations,  if,  indeed,  he  did 
to  any  besides  his  God.  It  required  a  reach  of  sympa- 
thy beyond  what  man  is  ordinarily  capable  of  exercis- 
ing to  enter  deeply  into  his  experience.  He  could  not 
bring  himself  to  tell  of  the  peculiar  agonies  or  rap- 
tures which  by  turns  tortured  and  blessed  him,  to  any 
heart  that  could  not  send  back  a  response.  And  Avhere, 
almost,  could  that  heart  be  found  ?  And  in  this  the 
writer,  Avhile  tracing  his  religious  experience,  has 
often  thought  he  was  justified  by  the  example  of  Paul, 


392  MEMOIR   OF 

after  his  rapture.  Still,  while  there  were  secrets  in  his 
own  bosom  of  too  sacred  a  character  to  be  made  com- 
mon by  participation,  his  intercourse  with  his  flock, 
individually,  was  that  of  a  highly  endearing,  tender, 
and  confidential  friendship.  "  If  there  were  ever  a 
minister" — these  are  his  own  words — "blessed  with 
a  kind  and  faithful  people,  I  am.  If  I  were  not  so  of- 
ten sick,  I  should  be  too  happy.  When  I  come  into 
my  congregation,  I  feel  as  a  father  surrounded  by  his 
children.  I  do  not  feel  as  though  there  were  an  ill- 
disposed  person  among  them.  I  can  throw  off  my  ar- 
mor without  fearing  that  an  enemy  is  there  with  a 
dagger  ready  to  stab  me."  Their  affection  was  most 
fully  and  faithfully  reciprocated.  Never  did  a  minis- 
ter more  ardently  love  his  charge,  or  enter  with  great- 
er facility  into  all  their  interests  and  feelings.  When 
any  of  them  were  visited  with  calamity,  he  was  among 
the  very  first  to  tender  his  sympathy ;  and  always  left 
them  "  lightened."  In  listening  to  his  conversation  and 
prayers,  the  burden  would  often  fall  off. 

"  Beside  the  bed  where  parting  life  was  laid, 

"  And  sorrow,  guilt,  and  pain,  by  turns  dismay'd," 

he  was  at  once  faithful  and  tender ;  and  if 

"  Despair  and  anguish  fled  the  struggling  soul," 
it  was  because  it  had  been  pointed  to  the  "  smitten 
Rock,"  to  the  "  Lamb  of  God,  who  taketh  away  the 
sins  of  the  world." 

"  Comfort  came  down^  the  trembling  wretch  to  raise, 
"  And  his  last  faltering  accents  whisper'd  praise." 

He  was  eminently  susceptible  of  gratitude.  A  favor, 
which  would  be  received  with  a  very  summary  ac- 
knowledgment by  many,  would  make  his  "  shoulders 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  393 

ache  under  the  load  of  obligation  that  was  laid  upon 
them."  And  if  he  "bore  it  pretty  well,  it  was  because 
nothing  renders  a  man  so  careless  about  increasing 
his  debts,  as  the  consciousness  that  he  shall  never  be 
able  to  pay." 

Economy  was  a  very  noticeable  feature  in  his  cha- 
racter. It  was  a  principle  with  him  to  spend  nothing 
merely  for  ornament.  The  money  which  came  into  his 
possession  he  regarded  as  a  talent  for  which  he  was 
accountable ;  and  so  scrupulous  was  he  as  to  the  dis- 
position which  he  made  of  it.  that  he  is  thought  to  have 
regarded  some  things  as  forbidden  luxuries  which 
would  have  been  for  his  welfare.  In  his  furniture,  in 
his  apparel,  and  that  of  his  household,  and  in  the  pro- 
visions of  his  table,  there  was  a  plainness  and  a  sim- 
plicity well  becoming  a  man  professing  and  teaching 
godliness.  Connected  with  this  quality  was  a  noble 
generosity  of  soul.  He  did  not  save  to  hoard,  but  to 
bless  others.  He  did  not  love  money  for  its  own  sake ; 
and  so  obvious  to  all  was  his  disinterestedness,  that, 
so  far  as  is  known,  he  never  fell  under  the  charge  or 
even  the  suspicion  of  being  avaricious.  If  the  tempo- 
ral or  spiritual  necessities  of  his  fellow-creatures  de- 
manded relief,  his  money  was  as  free  for  their  use  as 
a  cup  of  cold  water.  He  had  declined  purchasing  an 
article  of  convenience  for  the  family  one  morning,  be- 
cause, as  it  was  not  absolutely  necessary,  he  thought 
they  could  not  afford  it.  The  same  day  he  gave  ten 
dollars  to  a  woman  in  reduced  circumstances,  who 
called  at  his  house.  At  another  time  he  said  to  his 
church,  who  had  handed  in  their  contribution  of  fifty 
or  sixty  dollars  for  foreign  missions — "  I  am  ashamed 
to  send  so  small  a  sum,  and  shall  forward  one  hundred 


394  MEMOIR   OF 

dollars  as  your  contribution ;  and  you  may  act  your 
pleasure  about  indemnifying  me."  These  are  only  in- 
stances out  of  a  multitude ;  the  same  liberality  cha- 
racterized him  as  long  as  he  lived.  He  continued  to 
give  till  after  he  was  unable  to  put  his  name  to  a  sub- 
scription paper.  It  was  with  reluctance  that  he  re- 
ceived from  his  people  what  they  were  forward  to  give 
as  a  compensation  for  his  services ;  and  for  two  suc- 
cessive years  he  actually  relinquished  four  hundred 
dollars.  He  never  would  have  possessed  a  dwelling- 
house  in  fee  if  his  people  had  waited  for  his  consent. 
Acting  according  to  the  impulse  of  their  own  liberal- 
ity, and  their  convictions  of  what  was  due  to  him  in 
return  for  the  sums  which  he  had  relinquished,  they 
purchased  and  secured  to  him,  by  deed,  a  house  more 
spacious  than  he  would  have  chosen ;  and  this  was  all 
his  property,  beyond  actual  expenditures,  which  he  did 
not  give  away. 

In  this  connection  a  document  will  be  introduced, 
containing  a  request,  such  as  it  would  be  equally  hon- 
orable to  ministers  and  people  if  there  were  more  fre- 
quent occasion  for : 

*'  To  the  members  of  the  Second  Parish  in  Portland,  hi  parish 
meeting  assembled— 

•'  Gentlemen, 

"  It  is  a  circumstance  which  claims  my  thankful 
acknowledgments,  and  of  which  I  hope  ever  to  retain 
a  grateful  recollection,  that,  while  many  ministers  are 
constrained  to  ask,  and  perhaps  ask  in  vain,  for  an  in- 
crease of  salary,  tiie  only  request  relative  to  a  support 
which  I  have  ever  had  occasion  to  present  to  you  is, 
that  my  salary  may  be  diminished.     Such  a  request, 


EDWARD   PAYSON.  395 

you  will  recollect,  I  made  through  the  mediuiA  of  one 
of  the  congregation  at  your  last  annual  meeting;,  but 
your  kindness  and  liberality  prevented  you  from  com- 
plying with  it.  I  now  repeat  that  request  in  writing. 
The  salary  which  you  voted  me  at  the  time  of  my  set- 
tlement is  amply  sufficient  for  my  support ;  and  more 
than  this  I  am  unwilling  to  receive  ;  for  I  can  never 
consent  to  acquire  wealth  by  preaching  the  Gospel  of 
Christ.  Permit  me  then  respectfully,  but  earnestly, 
to  request  that  the  addition  which  you  have  so  gene- 
rously made  to  my  salary,  the  last  two  years,  may  be 
discontinued. 

"That  the  Master  whom  I  serve  may  repay  all 
your  kindness  to  his  servant,  is  the  first  wish  and 
most  earnest  prayer  of 

"  Your  deeply  indebted  and  grateful  pastor, 

"Edward  Payson* 

"  PortloAid,  April  27,  1821." 

In  tbe  same  spirit,  after  his  last  sickness  had  made 
such  inroads  upon  his  strength  as  almost  wholly  to 
•disqualify  him  for  exertion,  he  dictated  the  following 
communication  : 

''  April  27,  1827. 

■"  T0  the  members  of  the  Second  Congregational  Church  in 
Portland,  in  parish  meeting  assembled — 

"Brethren  and  Friends, 

"  Of  the  kindness  and  generosity  with  which  you 
have  invariably  treated  me  ever  since  I  became  your 
pastor,  and  especially  since  the  commencement  of  my 
present  indisposition,  I  am  deeply  sensible.  Nor  have 
you  given  me  the  smallest  reason  to  suppose  that  your 


396 


MEMOIR   OF 


kindness  is  exhausted,  or  even  diminished.  But  I 
must  not  allow  myself  to  encroach  upon  it  too  far. 
It  is  my  indispensable  duty  to  prefer  your  spiritual 
welfare  to  every  personal  consideration.  If  I  have 
reason  to  believe  that  your  religious  interests  would 
be  promoted  by  a  dissolution  of  the  connection  be- 
tween us,  it  is  incumbent  on  me  to  request  that  it 
may  be  dissolved  ;  and  to  retire  from  a  station,  the 
duties  of  which  I  am  no  longer  able  to  perform.  And 
have  1  not  reason  to  believe  that  such  is  the  fact? 
With  the  present  state  of  my  health  you  are  suffi- 
ciently acquainted.  It  has  already  occasioned  you 
much  trouble  and  expense.  You  have  waited  a  rea- 
sonable time  for  its  restoration,  and  the  probability  that 
it  will  ever  be  restored,  is  by  no  means  great.  It  is 
highly  important  that  such  a  society  as  this  should  enjoy 
the  services  of  a  minister  who  possesses  a  vigorous  con- 
stitution, jfirm  health,  and  ministerial  qualifications  of 
the  first  order ;  and  the  salary  which  it  gives  entitles 
it  to  expect,  and  will  enable  it  to  command  the  ser- 
vices of  such  a  minister.  In  view  of  these  circum- 
stances, I  feel  a  prevailing  persuasion  that  it  is  my 
duty  to  propose  a  dissolution  of  the  connection  between 
us,  and  to  request  you  to  unite  with  me  in  calling  a 
council  for  the  purpose  of  dissolving  it.  Such  a  pro- 
position and  request  I  now  submit  to  you. 

"  That  on  this  and  every  other  occasion  you  may 
be  guided  by  that  wisdom  which  is  from  above,  and 
led  to  the  adoption  of  such  measures  as  shall  be  most 
conducive  to  the  glory  of  God  ^nd  your  own  best  in- 
terests, is  the  prayer  of 

"  Your  affectionate  friend  and  pastor, 

"Edward  Payson." 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  397 

This  request  met  a  most  honorable  reception.  Their 
reply  to  *it  expressed  the  most  "  deep  and  afiectionate 
sympathy  with  their  much  esteemed  pastor,  and  a 
sense  of  their  high  obligations  for  the  very  valuable 
services  which  a  kind  Providence  had  permitted  and 
enabled  him  to  perform  for  a  long  course  of  years ; 
and  appreciating  his  present  services,  much  as  they 
were  interrupted  and  curtailed  by  sickness,  of  pai-a- 
mount  value  and  interest  to  them,  they  did  respect- 
fully solicit  that  he  would  be  pleased  to  withdraw  his 
request ;  and  thus  permit  them  to  hope,  that  whatever 
might  be  the  state  of  his  health  in  future,  they  should 
enjoy  the  benefit  of  his  counsel  and  prayers,  till  he 
was  called  to  receive  the  reward  prepared  for  the 
faithful  servants  of  Christ." — With  these  wishes,  so 
affectionately  and  gratefully  expressed,  he  complied; 
and  continued,  in  such  ways  as  he  could,  to  advance 
their  spiritual  interests,  till  removed  by  the  undoubted 
will  of  God. 

But  there  are  in  the  lives  of  eminently  faithful  mi- 
nisters, events  of  another  character,  which  it  is  pain- 
ful to  narrate,  and  yet  which  ought  not  to  be  passed 
over  in  silence.  The  hostility  which  they  sometimes 
experience  illustrates  the  depravity  of  mankind,  and 
confirms  the  authority  of  Scripture  by  evincing  the 
truth  of  the  declaration — "  If  any  man  will  live  godly 
in  Chnst  Jesus,  he  shall  suffer  persecution."  Dr. 
Payson  was  such  "a  terror  to  evil  doers,"  that  from 
time  to  time  they  seemed  bent  on  destroying  his  re- 
putation, and  multiplied  their  slanders  till  they 
ceased  to  gain  any  credence  even  with  the  vilest. 
When  these  designs  upon  his  character  proved  abor- 
tive, their  enmity  manifested  itself  in  other   forms. 

M.  p.  34 


398  MEMOIR    OF 

He  once  alludes  to  this  opposition  in  his  letters.  It 
was  in  a  year  eminently  distinguished  by  God's  bless- 
ing on  his  labors. 

'''July  4:,  1810. 

"Enemies  rage  most  terribly.  You  have  pro- 
bably seen  in  the  papers  an  account  of  the  attempt  to 
burn  our  meeting-house.  We  have  not  discovered  the 

author ;  but  there  is  no  doubt  that are  at 

the  bottom  of  it.  It  was  little  less  than  a  miracle  that 
the  house  was  not  burnt,  with  many  others.  Never, 
since  I  have  been  here,  has  the  enmity  of  the  heart 
been  permitted  to  rage  as  it  does  now." 


CHAPTER    XIX. 

Further  particulars  relating  to  his  pcr^oyial  history  and  reli- 
gious exercises  J  in  connection  luith  his  pastoral  labors  and 
their  results. 

It  was  not  thought  desirable  to  interrupt  a  descrip- 
tion of  "  the  pastor  in  action  "  by  frequent  references 
to  dates ;  or  to  pay  any  special  regard  to  chronolo- 
gical order  in  a  rehearsal  of  scenes  and  employments 
which  were  more  or  less  common  to  every  year  of  his 
ministry.  In  this  chapter,  however,  that  order  is  re- 
sumed, for  the  purpose  of  continuing  the  history  of 
his  religious  experience  through  the  various  occur- 
rences and  vicissitudes  of  his  life.     The  particulars 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  399 

will  be  given  almost  entirely  in  his  own  language, 
and  in  insolated  extracts,  which  will  be  found,  how- 
ever, to  possess  the  principal  advantages  of  a  connect- 
ed narrative,  besides  several  others  which  no  second- 
hand statements  could  secure.  They  were  sketched 
at  the  time,  and  have  the  vividness  of  first  impres- 
sions in  view  of  truths  and  facts  as  they  were  succes- 
sively brought  under  notice,  while  the  circumstances 
in  which  they  are  penned  are  a  sufficient  guarantee  of 
their  accuracy.  The  articles  of  intelligence,  and 
modes  of  elucidating  and  enforcing  truth,  Avhich  are 
interspersed,  Vv^ill  enhance  their  value ;  while  they  will 
enable  the  reader  to  view  the  subject  of  this  Memoir 
in  a  greater  variety  of  attitudes,  and  to  learn  his  ex- 
ercises and  feelings  in  numerous  circumstances — in 
prosperity  and  under  the  rod  ;  when  borne  along  on 
the  full  tide  of  success,  and  when  thwarted  at  every 
step  5  when  religion  was  triumphant,  and  when  "  the 
ways  of  Zion  mourned." 

"  Portland,  June  14,  1813. 
"My  dear  Mother, 

"  We  arrived  here  last  Friday  in  safety,  and  found 
every  thing  had  been  preserved  by  our  merciful  Pro- 
tector. We  very  soon  had  reason  to  acknowledge  how 
much  his  protection  is  superior  to  ours  ;  for,  the  very 
night  after  our  return,  our  garden  was  laid  waste. 

"  For  a  few  days  after  my  return  I  was  exceedingly 
unwell,  and  there  seemed  less  prospect  of  my  conti- 
nuing in  the  ministry  than  ever.  In  addition,  I  was 
more  severely  exercised  with  spiritual  trials  than  I 
have  been  for  two  years  past ;  so  that  the  five  days 
succeeding  my  return  Avere,  perhaps,  as  dark  as  any 


400  MEMOIR    OF 

five  days  thai  I  ever  experienced.  But  now,  blessed 
be  God!  the  scene  has  wonderfully  changed.  For 
three  days  I  have  felt  something  more  like  health  than 
I  have  enjoyed  for  years  ;  something  of  that  spring 
and  elasticity  of  spirit  which  used  to  render  life  tolera- 
ble and  exertion  pleasant.  How  long  it  will  continue 
I  know  not.  It  seems  too  good  to  last.  I  see,  how- 
ever, already,  that  if  the  burden  of  sickness  is  to  be 
removed,  some  other  burden,  perhaps  a  worse  one, 
must  be  imposed  in  its  place.  I  am  ready  to  run  wild 
with  the  pleasure  of  not  feeling  pain ;  though,  even 
now,  I  am  not  altogether  free  from  it.  If  my  health 
should  be  restored,  I  shall  consider  it  as  little  less 
than  a  miracle  ;  and  shall  feel  as  if  your  deafness  may 
be  removed.  Indeed  I  think  it  will  strengthen  my 
faith  as  much  as  it  will  my  body.  It  will  also  remove 
some  spiritual  difficulties  and  doubts,  w^hich  have  been 
a  terrible  hinderance  to  me  in  my  race,  and  given  un- 
belief more  advantage  over  me  than  all  other  things 
united.     But  how  I  ramble  ! 

"  We  have  little  encouraging  of  a  religious  nature, 
though  the  church  are,  I  believe,  much  engaged. 
They  ought  to  be ;  for  I  find  that  '  Portland  Christians' 
have  at  least  a  name  to  live  at  the  westward ;  a  better 
name,  I  fear,  than  they  will  ere  long  deserve,  even  if 
they  merit  it  now." 

"  September  12,  1814. 

"  I  engaged  to  go  on  a  mission,  if  my  people 

would  consent;  but  they  will  not  hear  of  it.  The 
church  would  consent,  but  the  congregation  will  not. 
You  will  learn  from  the  newspapers  that  we  are  in  a 
state  of  alarm  here,  or  I  should  say  nothing  of  it.  Ever 
since  our  return  the  streets  have  been  filled  with  wa- 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  401 

gons,  &c.  carrying  goods  out  of  town,  and  the  alarm 
continues  and  increases.  We  had  hoped  to  have  a 
quiet  Sabbath  yesterday  ;  but  in  the  morning  the 
chairman  of  the  committee  of  public  safety  called  and 
informed  me  that  the  committee  had  issued  a  hand- 
bill, requiring  all  the  male  citizens  to  work  through 
the  day  on  the  fortifications,  and  stating  that  the  usual 
religious  services  of  the  day  must  be  dispensed  with. 
With  this  order  our  church  absolutely  refused  to  com- 
ply, and  we  had  divine  service  both  parts  of  the  day 
as  usual,  and  a  considerably  large  congregation.  This 
morning  all  is  bustle  and  confusion  through  the  town. 
W"e  have  sent  a  few  things  to  Gorham ;  and,  in  case 
of  an  attack,  we  can  pack  into  the  chaise  and  follow. 
You  have  no  reason  to  entertain  the  smallest  fears 
for  our  personal  safety.  In  ten  minutes  after  an 
alarm  is  given  we  can  be  safe  out  of  town.  The  church 
seem  to  feel  in  some  measure  as  I  could  wish :  strong 
confidence  in  God,  mingled  with  a  deep  sense  of  ill- 
desert  and  submission  to  his  will.  They  have  a  pray- 
er-meeting every  evening;  and  next  Thursday,  if  cir- 
cumstances will  permit,  we  are  to  have  a  fast.  At  our 
house  all  is  still  and  quiet.  We  hear  little  of  the  noise, 
and  have  slept  undisturbed  every  night  till  the  last.  I 
cannot  think  we  are  in  much  danger.  Not  that  great 
dependence  is  to  be  placed  in  our  means  of  defence  ; 
but  I  cannot  think  God  means  to  destroy  this  place. 
We  needed  something  to  rouse  us,  and  to  remind  us 
that  we  were  engaged  in  war,  and  to  excite  us  to  pray 
for  the  removal  of  God's  judgments  ;  and  this  effect 
the  alarm  has,  I  trust,  produced.  It  tends  powerfully 
to  wean  us  from  the  world  ;  so  that,  thus  far,  it  has 
been  a  mercy." 

M.  p.  34* 


402  MEMOIR   OF 

"  Nov.  14,  1814. 

"  We  are  going  on  as  well  as  can  be  expected. 

L.  is  well ;  little  L.  better  than  for  a  year  past ;  my 
own  health  sloAvly  but  gradually  improving.  Our 
souls  too,  I  hope,  are  not  quite  so  far  from  prospering 
and  being  in  health  as  they  have  been ;  the  church  are 
reviving,  and  there  are  many  hopeful  appearances  in 
the  congregation.  But  the  best  of  all  is,  that  we  seem 
to  be  waking  up  in  this  part  of  the  country,  as  well  as 
in  others,  to  the  state  of  public  morals.  Delegates 
from  nineteen  towns  in  this  vicinity  met  in  this  town 
last  week,  and  adopted  a  number  of  measures  to  se- 
cure the  proper  observance  of  the  Sabbath.  A  similar 
meeting  for  the  county  of  Lincoln  is  to  be  held  this 
week  at  Wiscasset.  These  things,  and  others  of  a 
similar  nature,  of  which  I  hear  abroad,  almost  lead 
me  to  cry  with  old  Simeon — '  Let  thy  servant  depart 
in  peace,  for  mine  eyes  have  seen  thy  salvation  !'  We 
shall  yet  see  peace  upon  our  Israel ;  and  I  have  very 
little  doubt,  that,  after  the  war  ceases,  we  shall  have 
greater  revivals  through  the  land  than  we  have  ever 
yet  seen.  It  was  harder  to  do  what  has  been  done,  both 
in  the  world  and  among  us,  than  to  do  what  remains. 
The  wheel  is  now  in  motion,  and  will  be  kept  so  with 
comparative  ease.  It  is  a  glorious  day  to  live  in  !  So 
much  to  be  done ;  so  much  to  be  prayed  for;  so  much  to 
be  seen.  I  was  wrong  in  saying  I  wished  to  depart  in 
peace.  I  wish  to  stay,  and  see,  and  do  a  little  more.  I 
would  not  now  exchange  a  place  in  the  church  below, 
even  for  a  place  in  heaven.  The  longer  our  time  of  labor 
is,  the  better.    There  will  be  time  enough  for  rest. 

"  Dr. died  last  week.    I  saw  him  repeatedly 

during  his  illness;  but  not  a  word  of  a  religious  na- 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  403 

ture  did  he  utter ;  and  I  am  told  he  said  as  little  to 
others.  He  was  a  minister  upwards  of  fifty  years. 
What  a  meeting  it  must  be,  when  a  pastor  meets  all 
who  have  died  under  his  ministry  during  so  many 
years;  especially  if  he  has  never  faithfully  warned 
them! 

"  Our  people  feel  the  consequences  of  the  war  very 
much.  I  am  astonished  to  see  how  well  they  continue 
to  pay  my  salary  ;  and  still  more,  to  see  how  liberally 
they  give  to  every  proper  object.  Their  deep  poverty 
serves  to  set  off  the  riches  of  their  liberality.  If  they 
were  like  many  congregations,  I  should  soon  be  dis- 
missed. Many,  how^ever,  have  moved  away  on  ac- 
count of  the  war ;  and  if  it  continues,  the  rest  must 
follow.  However,  we  serve  a  good  Master ;  and  while 
he  has  work  for  us  to  do,  he  will  feed  us.  I  rejoice  to 
to  learn  that  you  find  '  the  joy  of  the  Lord  your 
strength.'  It  is  strength  indeed.  I  hope  my  father 
finds  as  much  reason  to  rejoice  in  the  progress  of  re- 
formation in  New-Hampshire  as  Ave  do  here." 

''June  2,  1815. 

"I  shall  not  be  able  to  visit  Rindge  this  sum- 
mer. Journeying  does  me  so  little  good,  and  I  have 
been  absent  so  long,  that  I  shall  not  dare  to  think  of 
it  at  present.  Were  it  possible,  I  w^ould  come  about 
the  time  of  the  ordination  of  the  Missionaries  at  New- 
buryport,  to  which  our  church  is  invited ;  but  I  fear  it 
will  not  be. 

"  I  am  sorry  for  poor ;  but  my  sorrow  is  miti- 
gated, if  not  removed,  by  reflecting  that  if  he  is  a 
Christian  all  things  are  working  for  his  good ;  and  if 
he  is  not,  an  education  will  do  him  more  harm  than 
good.    I  have  grown  quite  hard-hearted  as  it  respects 


404  MEMOIR    OF 

the  trials  of  Christians.  I  scarcely  pity  them  at  all 
while  under  the  rod,  though  I  am  sorry  we  all  need  it 
so  much.  However,  I  sympathize  with  you,  my  dear 
mother,  in  your  want  of  hearing.  It  is  a  grievous 
trial ;  and  if,  as  you  intimate,  frequent  letters  will  in 
any  degree  mitigate  it,  I  will  strive  to  write  oftener. 
I  trust  our  revival  has  not  ceased ;  though  it  will  not, 
I  fear,  prove  so  extensive  as  I  at  first  hoped." 

"  Sept.  7,  1815. 

"  Do  not  feel  anxious  about  me.    I  am,  you 

know,  in  good  hands — in  better  hands  than  yours ; 
and  when  you  consider  how  good  God  has  been  to 
me,  you  can  have  no  reason  to  fear  that  he  will  deal 
with  me  otherwise  than  well. 

"  I  have  little  to  write,  respecting  our  situation  in  a 
religious  view,  that  is  encouraging ;  but  things  look 
promising  in  many  other  places  at  a  distance.  You 
have  heard  of  the  revivals  at  Litchfield  and  New-Ha- 
ven. An  account  of  these  revivals,  read  in  Rowley, 
has  occasioned  the  commencement  of  a  similar  work 
there,  which  promises  to  become  extensive.    There  is 

also  considerable  attention  among  the  students  in 

Academy  ;  and  a  letter,  which  I  have  just  received 
from  a  gentleman  in  Baltimore,  informs  me  that  there 
is  a  revival  in  an  academy  in  that  vicinity,  and  in  two 
or  three  other  places.  It  certainly  appears  more  and 
more  probable  that  God  is  about  to  work  wonders  in 
most  of  our  seminaries  of  learning ;  and,  if  so  who 
can  calculate  the  blessed  effects  which  will  be  the 
result  ? 

"  The  revolution  in  Dartmouth  College  makes  a  greal 
noise  here.  Losing  Mr.  Brown  will  be  a  srievous  blo"w 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  405 

to  me.  I  think  the  trustees  could  hardly  have  made  a 
better  choice." 

On  perusing  the  following,  it  is  difficult  to  repress  a 
wish  that  the  writer  had  been  under  the  necessity  ot 
"  fitting  up  a  house  "  every  year  : 


"  My  dear  Mother, 

"  I  fear  you  will  think  me  very  negligent  in  delay- 
ing so  long  to  answer  your  letter ;  but  I  have  an  excuse 
ready.  We  have  been  moving,  and  repairing  our  house, 
and  I  have  been  almost  incessantly  engaged  night  and 
day.  We  have  had  half  a  score  of  workmen  in  the 
house,  and  I  have  been  obliged  to  superintend  and 
work  with  them  ;  and  this,  in  addition  to  parochial  du- 
ties, has  so  hurried  me  that  I  have  scarcely  had  time 
to  eat.  You  will  be  glad  to  hear  that  my  cares  and  la- 
bors have  had  a  very  beneficial  effect  with  respeci  to 
my  health,  so  that  I  have  gained  more  in  fourteen  days 
than  in  as  many  months  previous.  I  have  also  enjoyed 
a  much  higher  degree  of  spiritual  health  than  usual, 
and  have  had  many  special  mercies,  both  of  a  tempo- 
ral and  religious  nature ;  so  that  I  have  seldom  passed 
six  happier  weeks  than  the  last.  Our  house  proves 
much  mure  convenient  than  we  expected,  and  we  have 
seen  much  of  the  wisdom  and  goodness  of  God  in  bring- 
mg  us  into  it.  It  is  the  same  house  in  which  I  former- 
ly boarded  when  preceptor — in  which  I  spent  some 
months  in  folly  and  sin,  and  in  which  I  received  the 
news  of  Charles's  death,  and  began  to  turn  my  atten- 
tion to  religion.  These  circumstances  give  it  an  inte- 
rest of  a  peculiar  kind,  and  furnish  matter  for  many 
humbling,  many  mournful,  and  not  a  few  thankful  and 


406  MEMOIR    OF 

profitable  reflections.  O  what  a  Master  do  I  serve  !  I 
have  known  nothing,  felt  nothing  all  my  days,  even 
in  comparison  with  what  I  now  see  in  him.  Never  was 
preaching  such  sweet  work  as  it  is  now.  Never  did  the 
world  seem  such  a  nothing.  Never  did  heaven  appear 
so  near,  so  sweet,  so  overwhelmingly  glorious.  *  *  * 
God's  promises  appear  so  strong,  so  solid,  so  real,  so 
substantial — more  so  than  the  rocks  and  everlasting 
hills ;  and  his  perfections — what  shall  I  say  of  them  ? 
When  I  think  of  one,  I  wish  to  dwell  upon  it  for  ever ; 
but  another,  and  another,  equally  glorious,  claims  a 
share  of  admiration ;  and  when  I  begin  to  praise,  I 
wish  never  to  cease,  but  have  it  the  commencement  of 
that  song  which  will  never  end.  Very  often  have  I 
felt  as  if  I  could  that  moment  throw^  off  the  body  with- 
out staying  to  '  first  go  and  bid  them  farevrell  that  are 
at  home  in  my  house.'  Let  who  will  be  rich,  or  ad- 
mired, or  prosperous ;  it  is  enough  for  me  that  there  is 
such  a  God  as  Jehovah,  such  a  Savior  as  Jesus,  and 
that  they  are  infinitely  and  unchangeably  glorious  and 
happy." 

The  year  1816  was  the  most  remarkably  distinguish- 
ed for  the  effusions  of  the  Holy  Spirit  on  his  people  of 
any  year  of  his  ministry,  with  the  exception  of  that  in 
which  his  happy  spirit  took  its  flight,  when  he  preached 
so  much  from  the  bed  of  death.  This  fact  the  reader 
will  regard  as  a  striking  commentary  on  the  subjoined 
extracts  from  his  diary  : 

"  Dec.  16,  1815.  Since  the  last  date  I  have  passed 
through  a  greater  variety  of  scenes  and  circumstances 
than  in  almost  any  period  of  equal  length  in  my  whole 
life,  and  have  exuerienced  severer  sufferings,  ccnfiicts, 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  407 

and  disappointments.  Some  time  in  February  I  began 
to  hope  for  a  revival ;  and  after  much  prayer  for  direc- 
tion, and,  as  I  thought,  with  confidence  in  God,  I  took 
some  extraordinary  and  perhaps  imprudent  measures 
to  hasten  it.  But  the  event  did  not  answer  my  expec- 
tations at  all ;  and  in  consequence  I  was  throAvn  into 
a  most  violent  commotion,  and  was  tempted  to  think 
God  unkind  and  unfaithful.  For  some  weeks  I  could 
not  think  of  my  disappointment  with  submission. 
There  were  many  aggravating  circumstances  attend- 
ing it,  which  rendered  it  incomparably  the  severest 
disappointment,  and,  of  course,  the  most  trying  temp- 
tation I  had  ever  met  with.  It  injured  my  health  to 
such  a  degree  that  I  was  obliged  to  spend  the  summer 
in  journeying  to  recover  it.  This,  however,  did  not 
avail,  and  I  returned  worse  than  I  went  away,  and 
plunged  into  the  depths  of  discouragement.  Was 
obliged,  sorely  against  my  will,  to  give  up  my  evening 
lectures,  and  to  preach  old  sermons.  After  a  while, 
however,  my  health  began  to  return,  though  very  slow- 
ly. God  was  pleased  to  revisit  me,  and  to  raise  me  up 
out  of  the  horrible  pit  and  miry  clay  in  which  I  had 
so  long  lain ;  and  my  gratitude  for  this  mercy  far  ex- 
ceeded all  I  felt  at  my  first  conversion.  Sin  never  ap- 
peared so  odious,  nor  Christ  so  precious  before.  Soon 
after  this  my  hopes  of  a  revival  began  to  return.  About 
a  month  since  very  favorable  appearances  were  seen, 
and  my  endeavors  to  rouse  the  church  seemed  to  be 
remarkably  blessed.  My  whole  soul  Avas  gradually 
wrought  up  to  the  highest  pitch  of  eager  expectation 
aiid  desire ;  I  had  great  assistance  in  observing  a  day 
of  fasting  and  prayer ;  the  annual  thanksgiving  was 
blessed  in  a  very  remarkable  and  surprising  manner, 


408 


MEMOIR    OF 


both  to  myself  and  the  church.  From  these  and  many 
other  circumstances  I  was  led  to  expect,  very  confi- 
dently, that  the  next  Sabbath,  which  was  our  commu- 
nion, would  be  a  glorious  day,  and  that  Christ  Avould 
then  come  to  convert  the  church  a  second  time,  and 
prepare  them  for  a  great  revival.  I  had  great  freedom 
in  prayer,  both  on  Saturday  night  and  Sabbath  morn- 
ing ;  and  after  resigning,  professedly,  the  whole  mat- 
ter to  God,  and  telling  him  that  if  he  should  disap- 
point us  it  would  be  all  right,  I  went  to  meeting.  But 
what  a  disappointment  awaited  me  !  I  was  more  strait- 
ened than  for  a  year  before ;  it  was  a  very  dull  day, 
both  to  myself  and  the  church ;  all  my  hopes  seemed 
dashed  to  the  ground  at  once,  and  I  returned  home  in 
an  agony  not  to  be  described.  Instead  of  vanquishing 
Satan,  I  was  completely  foiled  and  led  captive  by  him ; 
all  my  hopes  of  a  revival  seemed  blasted,  and  1  ex- 
pected nothing  but  a  repetition  of  the  same  conflicts 
and  sufferings  which  I  had  endured  after  my  disap- 
pointment last  spring,  and  which  I  dreaded  a  thousand 
times  worse  than  death.  Hence  my  mind  was  exceed- 
ingly imbittered.  But,  though  the  storm  was  sudden 
and  violent,  it  was  short.  My  insulted,  abused  Master 
pitied  and  prayed  for  me,  that  my  faith  might  not  fail ; 
and  therefore,  after  Satan  had  been  permitted  to  sift 
me  as  wheat,  I  was  delivered  out  of  his  power ;  and, 
strange  as  it  even  now  appears  to  me,  repentance  and 
pardon  were  given  me,  and  I  was  taken  with  greater 
kindness  than  ever  to  the  bosom  of  that  Savior  whom 
I  had  so  insulted.  Nor  was  this  all ;  the  trial  was  be- 
neficial to  me.  It  showed  me  the  selfishness  of  my 
prayers  for  a  revival,  and  my  self-deception  in  think- 
ing 1  was  willing  to  be  disappointed,  if  God  pleased. 


EDWARD   PAYSON.  409 

It  convinced  me  that  I  was  not  yet  prepared  for  such  a 
blessing,  and  that  much  more  wisdom  and  grace  were 
necessary  to  enable  me  to  conduct  a  revival  properly, 
than  I  had  ever  imagined  before.  On  the  whole,  though 
the  past  year  has  been  one  of  peculiar  trial  and  suffer- 
ing, I  have  reason  to  hope  it  has  not  been  unprofitable, 
and  that  I  have  not  suffered  so  many  things  altogether 
in  vain.  I  have  seen  more  of  myself  and  of  Christ  than 
I  ever  saw  before ;  and  can  at  times  feel  more  of  the 
frame  described  in  Ezekiel,  16  :  63,  than  I  ever  ex- 
pected to  feel  a  year  since.  The  Gospel  way  of  salva- 
tion appears  much  more  glorious  and  precious,  and  sin 
more  hateful.  I  can  see,  supposing  a  revival  is  to  come, 
that  it  was  a  great  mercy  to  have  it  so  long  delayed. 
My  hopes  that  it  will  yet  come  are  perhaps  as  strong 
as  ever,  but  my  mind  is  on  the  rack  of  suspense,  and  I 
can  scarcely  support  the  conflict  of  mingled  anxieties, 
desires  and  expectations.  Meanwhile  appearances  are 
every  week  more  favorable,  the  heavens  are  covered 
with  clouds,  and  some  drops  have  already  fallen.  Such 
are  the  circumstances  in  which  I  commence  the  ninth 
year  of  my  ministry ;  and  surely  never  did  my  situa- 
tion call  more  loudly  for  fasting  and  prayer  than  now. 

"  In  the  preceding  sketch  of  the  past  year  I  have 
said  little  of  my  own  wickedness,  or  of  God's  good- 
ness ;  for,  indeed,  I  know  not  what  to  say.  The  simple 
statements  which  I  have  made  of  facts  speak  more 
loudly  in  favor  of  Christ,  and  against  myself,  than 
any  thing  else  can  do.  I  used  to  think  that  repent- 
ance and  confession  bore  some  small  proportion  to 
my  sins  ;  but  now  there  seems  to  be  no  more  propor- 
tion between  them  than  between  finite  and  infinite.  I 
can  see  that  I  once  trusted  much  to  my  repentance 

M.  P.  35 


410  MEMOIR   OP 

but  now  my  repentance  seems  one  of  my  worst  sins, 
on  account  of  its  exceeding  imperfection. 

"  For  an  hour  or  two  I  have  enjoyed  as  much  as- 
sistance as  I  usually  do  on  such  occasions ;  but  I  see 
more  and  more  how  exceedingly  little  there  is  of  spi- 
rituality m  my  best  affections.  Imagination,  natural 
affections,  and  self-love,  compose  by  much  the  largest 
part  of  my  experiences.  Indeed,  I  can  scarcely  dis- 
cover any  thing  else.  It  is  like  a  fire  just  kindled; 
much  smoke,  some  blaze,  but  little  heat.  I  have  been 
prayinjj,  more  than  I  ever  did  before,  for  more  spiri- 
tual affection  and  clearer  views ;  but  as  yet  my  gra- 
cious God  does  not  answer  my  request.  But  he  knows 
best,  and  with  him  I  can  leave  it. 

"  Was  favored,  while  reading  Owen  on  the  He- 
brews, with  new  and  unusually  clear  views  of  many 
things  respecting  our  Savior's  sufferings,  which  filled 
me  with  wonder  and  delight.  O  how  little  have  I 
known,  how  little  do  I  still  know  of  the  great  mys- 
tery of  godliness  !  In  the  evening  hoped  I  felt  some- 
thing of  what  the  apostle  calls  travailing  in  birth  for 
souls.  I  was  in  such  a  state  of  mind  as  I  cannot  well 
describe,  but  it  seemed  to  be  almost  insupportable. 

"  Dec.  17.  Had  a  most  sweet,  refreshing  season  in 
prayer  last  night.  The  unsearchable  riches  seemed 
opened  to  me,  to  take  as  much  as  I  pleased.  Had 
great  liberty  in  praying  for  a  revival:  and  could 
scarcely  give  over  the  blessed  work,  though  much  ex- 
hausted. This  morning  was  in  the  same  frame. 
Was  especially  affected  and  delighted  with  the  proof 
of  love  which  he  required  from  Peter,  '  Feed  my 
sheep.'  Prayed  that  I  might  be  enabled  to  feed  them 
this  day.     Went  to  the  house  of  God  with  more  ot 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  411 

such  a  frame  as  I  wished  than  usual.  I  have  hitlierto 
had  no  liberty-  in  praying  for  a  revival  in  public.  How- 
ever much  I  might  feel  at  home,  it  was  taken  from  me 
as  soon  as  1  entered  the  meeting-house.  But  to-day 
my  fetters  were  taken  off.  I  could  pray  for  nothing 
but  a  revival. 

"  Dec.  18.  Felt  unusually  oppressed  with  a  sense 
of  the  wisdom  and  grace  necessary  to  conduct  a  re 
vival  \  but  was  enabled  to  trust  in  God  to  supply  my 
wants.  Spent  the  evening  with  Christian  friends. 
Prayed  for  a  blessing  on  the  visit,  and  found  it  a 
sweet  season.  After  my  return  had  a  most  refreshing 
and  delightful  season  in  prayer.  Had  no  longer  the  least 
doubt  of  a  revival,  and  my  joy  was  unspeakable.  Con- 
tinued sweetly  meditating  and  praying  till  I  fell  asleep. 

"  Dec.  19.  New  joys,  new  praises.  Had  a  most  ra- 
vishing view  of  Christ  this  morning,  as  coming  at  a 
distance  in  the  chariot  of  his  salvation.  In  an  instant 
he  was  with  me  and  around  me ;  and  I  could  only  cry, 
Welcome !  welcome !  a  thousand  times  welcome  to 
my  disconsolate  heart,  and  to  thy  widowed  church! 
O,  joy  unspeakable  and  full  of  glory  ! — while  seeing 
him  not,  I  feel  and  believe  his  presence.  Spent  the 
evening  with  the  church,  after  much  prayer,  both 
alone  and  with  others,  that  Christ  would  meet  and 
bless  us.  Went  to  meeting  trembling,  and  my  fears 
were  realized.  I  Avas  entirely  deserted,  had  nothing 
to  say,  and  was  obliged  to  leave  them  abruptly.  They 
sat  stup.d  awhile  after  I  left  them,  and  then  sepa- 
rated. This  was  a  sore  tria»l.  Impatience  and  self- 
will  struggled  hard  for  leave  to  say  something  against 
Christ;  but  I  was  enabled  to  flee  to  the  throne  of 
grace,  and  found  relief.    One  thing  is  certain :  I  have 


412  MEMOIR    OP 

no  direct  promise  that  there  shall  be  a  revival ;  "but 
I  have  a  thousand  direct,  positive  assurances  that 
Christ  IS  faithful,  and  wise,  and  kind.  This,  there- 
fore, faith  will  believe,  whatever  becomes  of  my 
hopes  and  wishes ;  and  it  is  evidently  absurd  to  pro- 
fess to  trust  in  God  for  what  he  has  not  expressly 
promised,  while  I  do  not  believe  his  positive  assur- 
ances. 

"  Dec.  24.  Enjoyed  great  nearness  to  Christ  in  fa- 
mily prayer.  Seemed  to  feel  a  perfect  union  with 
him,  and  to  love  with  a  most  intense  love  every 
thing  that  is  dear  to  him.  Christians  seemed  inex- 
pressibly dear  to  me,  and  I  loved  to  pray  for  them  as 
for  myself.  But,  O,  where  have  I  been  ?  and  what 
have  I  been  doing  all  my  days  ?  How  terribly  blind 
and  ignorant  of  religion  have  I  been  !  and  noio  I  know 
nothing,  feel  nothing  as  I  ought.  Saw  that  there  is 
incomparably  more  to  be  known  and  felt  in  religion 
than  I  ever  thought  of  before.  What  a  pity  that  I 
have  lost  so  many  of  the  best  years  of  my  life  in  con- 
tented ignorance;  and  what  would  I  not  give  for  the 
years  I  have  lost.  I  never  can  be  humbled  sufficiently 
for  my  indolence.  As  it  respects  a  revival,  I  feel 
easy.  My  anxiety  has  subsided  into  a  settled  calm, 
arising  from  a  full  persuasion  that  Christ  will  come 
and  save  us. 

"  Dec.  30.  Was  greatly  assisted  in  praying  for  a 
revival,  and  felt  almost  a  full  assurance  th-^t  it  would 
be  granted.  Felt  sweetly  melted,  and  almost  over- 
powered with  a  sense  of  God's  sovereign,  unmerited 
love.  Could  not  forbear  saying  to  him  that  he  ought 
not  to  save  such  a  guilty  creature ;  or,  at  least,  ought 
not  to  employ  me,  and  bless  my  labors ;  but  he  seem- 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  413 

ed  to  reply  with  great  power  and  majesty,  'I  will 
have  mercy  on  whom  I  will  have  mercy.'  Could  not 
but  submit  that  it  should  be  so.  Never  did  the  so- 
vereignty of  God  appear  so  sweet  as  then.  Spent 
part  of  the  evening  in  religious  conversation  with  my 
domestics. 

"  Jan.  4,  1816.  Preached  the  evening  lecture  with- 
out much  sensible  assistance.  After  meeting,  one  ot 
the  church  informed  me  that  in  the  afternoon  a  man, 
(who  had  formerly  been  one  of  the  first  merchants  in 
town,)  once  a  professor,  but  who  has  been  for  many 
years  an  apostaie  and  bitter  enemy  to  religion,  came 
to  him  apparently  much  distressed  respecting  his  sal- 
vation ;  and  that  the  same  man  was  at  lecture.  This 
good  news  filled  us  with  joy  and  triumph,  so  that  all 
doubts  of  a  revival  seemed  removed.  O,  I  wanted, 
even  then,  to  begin  my  eternal  song ;  and  excess  of 
happiness  became  almost  painful.  Could  scarcely 
sleep  for  joy,  though  much  fatigued. 

'■'-  Jan.  5.  Had  similar  views  and  feelings  this  morn- 
ing, but  less  vivid.  Took  a  review  of  God's  dealings 
with  me,  and  of  my  own  exercises  respecting  the  re- 
vival. Saw  infinite  wisdom  and  goodness  in  every 
thing  that  God  has  done,  and  could  not  but  admire 
and  praise.  As  to  my  feelings,  though  they  seemed 
little  less  than  a  mass  of  pride,  and  selfishness,  and  im- 
patience, yet  I  could  not  but  see  that  there  was  some 
real  faith  under  all,  which  God  had  accepted.  After- 
wards, however,  reflecting  on  the  feelings  of  papists 
towards  their  saints,  and  pagans  towards  their  idols, 
I  was  led  to  doubt  whether  I  had  exercised  any  real 
faith  at  all.  Attended  a  fast.  Endeavored  to  convince 
the  church  how  polluted  the  conference-room  must  be 

M.  P.  35^ 


414  MEMOIR   OF 

in  the  sight  of  God,  in  consequence  of  the  sins  which 
nad  been  committed  there.  Then  made  a  confession 
of  them,  and  prayed  that  it  might  be  cleansed.  Then 
did  the  same  with  respect  to  our  closets,  and  houses, 
and  afterAvards  the  house  of  God,  and  the  communion 
table.  Then  read  and  expounded  the  new  covenant, 
and  showed  what  was  meant  by  taking  hold  of  it.  Fi- 
nished by  imploring  all  the  blessings  of  this  covenant 
on  the  church,  and  praying  for  a  revival. 

"Jan.  7.  Sabbath.  Had  no  freedom  either  in  prayer 
or  preaching,  and  the  congregation  appeared  uncom 
monly  stupid.  Concluded  that  there  was  to  be  no  re- 
vival under  me.  Was  exceedingly  distressed,  but  felt 
no  disposition  to  murmur  or  be  impatient.  Withdrew 
to  my  chamber  to  weep  and  pray.  It  seemed  clear 
that  I  was  the  great  obstacle  to  a  revival.  I  have  not 
'rendered  again  according  to  the  benefit  done  unto 
me,  but  my  heart  has  been  lifted  up ;  therefore  is 
there  wrath  upon  my  people.'  Threw  myself  in  the 
dust  at  God's  feet.  Derived  some  comfort  from  often 
repeating  those  words,  '  I  will  be  gracious  to  whom  I 
will  be  gracious.'  It  seemed  sweet  as  well  as  rea- 
sonable that  God  should  be  a  sovereign,  and  do  what 
he  will  with  his  own." 

''March  I,  1816. 

"  Could  I,  my  dear  mother,  tell  you  all  the 

good  news  I  have  so  long  been  waiting  for,  it  would 
be  some  comfort;  but  I  can  say  but  little  compared 
with  what  I  hoped  to  be  able  to  say  before  this  time; 
nor  can  I  yet  determine  how  it  will  go  with  us.  We 
have  about  eighty  inquirers,  and  several,  I  hope,  are 
converted ;  but  this  is  nothing  to  what  we  expected. 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  415 

However,  we  would  be  thankful  for  a  drop  if  we  can- 
not have  a  shower.  It  has  been  a  trying  season  with 
me  this  winter.  While  pursuing  the  revival,  it  seemed 
as  if  I  must  die  in  the  pursuit,  and  never  overtake  it." 

"  April  1,  1816. 

"  I  am  so  worn  down  with  constant  cares  and 

labors,  that  my  affections  seem  to  be  all  dried  up,  '  and 
I  am  withered  like  grass.'  However,  I  hope  you  have 
received,  ere  this,  a  few  lines  as  a  proof  that  I  have 
not  quite  forgotten  or  ceased  to  love  my  mother. 

"  Our  revival  still  lingers  :  it,  however,  increases 
slowly.  I  have  conversed  with  about  forty  who  enter- 
tain hopes,  and  with  about  sixty  more  who  are  inquir- 
ing. Twenty-three  have  joined  the  church  since  the 
year  commenced.  The  work  is  evidently  not  over; 
but  whether  it  will  prove  general,  is  still  doubtful. 
There  is  quite  a  revival  at  Bath,  below  us.  Nearly 
two  hundred  have  been  awakened.  In  Philadelphia, 
seventy-one  were  added  to  a  single  church  at  one 
time,  a  few  weeks  since.  In  New-York  and  Balti- 
more, also,  there  are  revivals.  You  have  probably 
heard  that  there  have  been  revivals  among  the  Hot- 
tentots. Two  hundred  were  added  to  the  church  in 
one  year,  and  ten  Hottentot  preachers  ordained.  There 
is  much  more  good  news  of  a  similar  nature.  Surely 
we  live  in  a  good  day,  and  I  believe  you  will  yet  see 
good  days  in  Rindge.  Their  liberality  in  raising  my 
fathers  salary  is  a  token  for  good;  and  I  rejoice  in  it 
more  for  that  reason  than  for  any  other.  Those  who 
are  most  willing  to  pay  for  the  Gospel,  are  most  like- 
ly to  have  it  blessed  to  them. 

"  We  go  on  very  happily  in  every  respect.    I  have 


416  MEMOIR    OF 

been  favored  with  a  long  calm,  or  rather  sunshine. 
Every  thing  is  easy ;  I  am  careful  for  nothing ;  Christ 
is  so  precious  and  so  near ;  my  cup  runneth  over. 
Every  day  I  expect  a  storm,  but  it  does  not  come. 
Doubtless  I  have  many  bitter,  trying  scenes  to  pass 
through  yet ;  worse  than  any  I  have  heretofore  expe- 
rienced. But  I  care  not :  He  Avill  carry  me  through. 
I  wish  to  mention  to  you  some  passages  which  have 
been  peculiarly  sweet  of  late.  One  is  this :  '  He 
caused  them  to  be  pitied  of  all  them  by  whom  they 
were  carried  away  captive.'  Scarcely  any  passage  ot 
Scripture  seems  to  me  so  expressive  of  God's  good- 
ness to  his  people  as  this.  After  they  had  provoked 
him  till  he  banished  them  from  the  good  land,  still  he 
pitied  them,  and  made  their  enemies  pity  them.  It 
sounds  like  David's  language — '  Deal  gently  with  the 
young  man  Absalom  for  my  sake.' 

"  Another  is  the  account  of  our  Savior's  ascension, 
in  the  last  chapter  of  Luke :  '  And  he  lifted  up  his 
hands  and  blessed  them.  And  while  he  blessed  them,' 
&c.  Observe, 'ii*/ii7e  he  blessed,'  &c.  The  last  thing 
he  was  ever  seen  to  do  on  earth  was  to  bless  his  dis- 
ciples. He  went  up  scattering  blessings  ;  and  he  has 
done  nothing  but  bless  them  ever  since." 

''Sept.  19,  1816. 

"  I  do  not  wonder  at  all,  my  dear  mother,  at  your 
discovering,  from  my  letters,  the  jaded,  languid  stale 
of  my  mental  faculties.  They  have  long  since  lost  all 
the  elasticity  which  they  ever  possessed,  and  my  mind 
is  '  as  dry  as  the  remainder  biscuit  after  a  voyage.' 

"  On  the  whole,  the  past  summer  has  been 

the  happiest  -which  I  have  enjoyed  since  I  was  set- 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  417 

tied.  Were  it  not  for  the  dreadfully  depressing  effects 
of  ill  health,  I  should  be  almost  too  happy.  It  seems 
to  me  that  no  domestic  troubles,  not  even  the  loss  of 
wife  and  children,  could  disturb  me  much,  might  I  en- 
joy such  consolations  as  I  have  been  favored  with 
most  of  the  time  since  the  date  of  my  last  letter. 
Soon  after  that,  the  revival,  which  I  feared  was  at  an 
end,  began  again,  and  things  now  look  as  promising 
as  ever.  My  meeting-house  overflows,  and  some  of 
the  church  are  obliged  to  stay  at  home,  on  account  of 
the  impossibility  of  obtaining  seats.  I  have,  in  the 
main,  been  favored  with  great  liberty  for  me,  both  in 
the  pulpit  and  out ;  and  it  has  very  often  seemed  as  if 
— could  I  only  drop  the  body — I  could  continue,  with- 
out a  moment's  pause,  to  praise  and  adore  to  all  eter- 
nity. This  goodness  is  perfectly  astonishing  and  in- 
comprehensible. I  am  in  a  maze  whenever  I  think 
of  it.  Every  day,  for  years,  I  have  been  expecting 
some  dreadful  judgments,  reckoning,  as  Hezekiah  did, 
that  as  a  lion  God  would  break  all  my  bones,  and, 
from  day  even  to  night,  make  an  end  of  me.  Now, 
and  now,  I  have  said  to  myself,  it  is  coming.  Now, 
God  will  cast  me  out  of  his  vineyard.  Now,  he  will 
lay  me  aside  or  withdraw  his  Spirit,  and  let  me  fall 
into  some  great  sin.  But,  instead  of  the  judgments 
which  I  expected  and  deserve,  he  sends  nothing  but 
mercies  ;  such  great  mercies  too,  that  I  absolutely 
stagger  under  them,  and  all  my  words  are  swallow- 
ed up. 

"  But,  great  as  my  reasons  are  to  love  God  for  his 
favors,  methinks  he  is  infinitely  more  precious  on  ac- 
count of  his  perfections.  Never  did  he  appear  so  inex- 
pressibly glorious  and  lovely  as  he  has  for  some  weekg 


418  MEMOIR    OF 

past.  He  is,  indeed,  all  in  all.  I  have  nothing  to  fear, 
nothing  to  hope  from  creatures.  They  are  all  mere 
shadows  and  puppets.  There  is  only  one  Being  in 
the  universe,  and  that  Being  is  God ;  may  I  add,  He 
is  my  God.  I  long  to  go  and  see  him  in  heaven.  I 
long  still  more  to  stay  and  serve  him  on  earth.  Rather 
I  rejoice  to  be  just  where  he  pleases,  and  to  be  what 
he  pleases.  Never  did  selfishness  and  pride  appear 
so  horrid.  Never  did  I  see  myself  to  be  such  a  mon- 
ster; so  totally  dead  lo  all  wisdom  and  goodness. 
But  I  can  point  up  and  say — There  is  my  righteous- 
ness, my  wisdom,  my  all.  In  the  hands  of  Christ  I 
lie  passive  and  helpless,  and  am  astonished  to  see  how 
he  can  Avork  in  me.  He  does  all ;  holds  me  up,  car- 
ries me  forward,  works  in  me  and  by  me  ;  while  I  do 
nothing,  and  yet  never  worked  faster  in  my  life.  To 
say  all  in  a  word — '  My  soul  followeth  hard  after  thee, 
thy  right  hand  upholdeth  me.' 

"  Our  inquirers  are  about  seventy.  We  are  building 
a  conference-house,  to  hold  five  hundred  people.  Some 
of  the  church,  who  can  ill  afford  it,  give  fifty  dollars 
each  towards  it." 

"  December  9,  1816. 

"  In  a  religious  view,  things  remain  very  much  as 
they  have  been.  AVe  have  about  fifty  inquirers  ;  but 
they  do  not  seem,  except  in  a  few  instances,  to  be 
very  deeply  impressed,  and  their  progress  is  slow. 
We  have  admitted  seventy-two  persons  into  the  church 
during  the  present  year.  Our  new  conference-house 
has  been  finished  some  weeks.  At  its  dedication,  and 
at  a  quarterly  fast  held  in  it  the  same  week,  we  en- 
joyed the  divine  presence  in  a  greater  degree,  1  think, 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  419 

than  we  ever  did  before  as  a  church.  I  would  not  have 
given  a  straw  for  the  additional  proof  Avhich  a  visible 
appearance  of  Christ  Avould  have  afforded  of  his  pre- 
sence. And  he  iias  been  wonderfully  gracious  to  me 
ever  since.  It  is  several  months  since  I  have  been 
disturbed  with  any  of  those  dreadful  conflicts  which 
for  so  many  years  rendered  life  bitterer  than  worm- 
wood and  gall. 

"  We  have  received  intelligence  of  E.'s  marriage. 
I  can  realize  more  than  I  once  could,  what  a  severe 
trial  it  must  be  to  you  and  my  father  to  have  both 
daughters  gone — almost  like  burying  them.  If  my 
father  Avere  not  a  minister,  and  thus  Jixed  where  he 
is,  I  should  send  him  and  you  such  an  invitation  as 
Joseph  sent  to  Jacob,  to  come  and  let  us  nurse  and 
nourish  you,  since  you  are  left  so  much  alone." 

"  December  16,  1817. 

"  This  being  the  anniversary  of  my  ordination,  de- 
termined to  spend  it  in  fasting  and  prayer.  Had  little 
courage  to  attempt  it,  on  account  of  bodily  infirmities 
and  repeated  vain  attempts ;  but  God  was  gracious  to 
me,  and  enabled  me  to  go  through  with  it.  Had  for 
a  long  time  a  melting,  heart-broken  frame  at  the  feet 
of  Christ,  weeping  aloud,  and  obtained  a  full  and 
sweet  assurance  of  pardon.  Never  before  enjoyed 
such  a  sense  of  his  love,  or  felt  so  constrained  to  love 
him  and  every  thing  that  belonged  to  him,  especially 
his  Word,  which  I  could  not  forbear  Idssing  and  press- 
ing to  my  bosom.  Was  perfectly  willing  to  die  with- 
out leaving  my  chamber,  if  my  work  here  were  done 
and  God  saw  best. 

"  Dec.  18.     Began  to  think  last  night  that  I  have 


420  MEMOIR   OP 

been  sleeping  all  my  days;  and  liiis  morning  felt 
sure  of  it.  I  have  been  idling  and  sleeping  while  my 
flock  have  been  dropping  into  hell.  How  astonish- 
ingly blind  have  I  been,  and  how  imperceptible  my 
religious  progress  !  Prayed  for  my  people  with  more 
of  a  right  spirit  than  perhaps  ever  before.  After  meet- 
ing had  for  a  few  moments  such  a  view  of  God  as 
almost  overwhelmed  me.  Could  not  have  supported 
it  long." 

«  October  27,  IS  18. 

"  In  addition  to  these  favors,  we  have  some 

reason  to  hope  that  Zion  is  travailing  in  birth  with 
souls.  After  a  long  season  the  preached  word  begins 
again  to  be  blessed  ;  and  several  have  within  a  few 
days  been  awakened.  My  health  too,  which  for  seve- 
ral weeks  was  worse  than  ever,  is  now  quite  as  good 
as  usual ;  and  God  has  been  so  gracious  to  me  in  spi- 
ritual things,  that  I  thought  he  was  preparing  me  for 
L.'s  death.  Indeed  it  may  be  so  still ;  but  if  so,  his 
will  be  done.  David's  charge  to  his  soul,  '  Avait  thou 
only  upon  God,'  has  of  late  seemed  peculiarly  pre- 
cious. Let  him  take  all ;  if  he  leaves  us  himself,  we 
still  have  all  and  abound.  I  tell  my  dear  parents  of 
these  mercies,  because  I  know  they  are  in  answer  to 
your  prayers,  and  because  I  trust  they  will  cause  you 
to  abound  in  thanksgiving  in  my  behalf. 
*        *         *         *         * 

"  Since  I  wrote  the  above  I  have  seen  three  more 
newly  awakened  ;  and  other  circumstances  appear  en- 
couraging. Truly  my  cup  runs  over  with  blessings.  I 
can  still  scarcely  help  thinking  that  God  is  preparmg 
me  for  some  severe  trial ;  but  if  he  will  grant  me  his 


EDWARD   tAYSON.  421 

Presence,  as  he  does  now,  no  trial  can  seem  severe. 
However,  I  desire  to  rejoice  w4th  trembling.  I  seem 
to  know  a  little  what  is  meant  by  fearing  the  Lord  and 
his  goodness.  There  seems  to  be  something  awful 
and  venerable  even  in  the  goodness  of  God,  when 
displayed  towards  creatures  so  desperately  wicked, 
so  inexpressibly  vile  as  we  are.  O,  could  I  now  drop 
the  body,  I  could  stand  and  cry  to  all  eternity,  with- 
out being  weary — God  is  holy,  God  is  just,  God  is 
good;  God  is  wise,  and  faithful,  and  true.  Either  of 
his  perfections  alone  is  sufficient  to  furnish  matter  for 
an  eternal,  unwearied  song.  How  bright,  how  daz- 
S:ling  is  the  pztre,  unsullied  whiteness  of  his  charac- 
ter! and  how  black,  how  loathsome  do  we  appear  in 
contrast  with  it !  Could  I  sing  upon  paper,  I  should 
'  break  forth  into  singing ;'  for  day  and  night  I  can 
do  nothing  but  sing.  '  Let  the  saints  be  joyful  in  glory ; 
let  them  sing  aloud  upon  their  beds ;  for  the  Lord 
shall  reign  King  for  ever,  and  thy  God,  O  Zion, 
throughout  all  generations.'  " 

-'April  13,  1820. 

"  I  have  lately  been  very  much  delighted  with  some 
account  of  the  last  years  of  Mr.  Newton.  Nothing  that 
I  have  yet  met  with  seems  to  come  so  near  complete 
ripeness  of  Christian  character  as  the  views  and  feel- 
ings which  he  expresses  in  his  daily  conversation. 
He  seems  to  have  seen  God  continually  in  every  thing, 
to  have  been  wholly  swallowed  up  in  him,  and  to  have 
regarded  him  as  all  in  all.  The  whole  creation  seemed, 
as  it  were,  to  be  annihilated  in  his  view,  and  God  to 
have  taken  its  place.  If  a  miracle  had  been  wrought 
before  me  to  prove  the  reality  of  religion,  it  could 

M.  p.  36 


422  MEMOIR   OF 

scarcely  have  produced  conviction  like  that  which  re- 
sulted from  seeing  religion  thus  gloriously  exempli- 
fied. After  his  faculties  seemed  to  be  almost  extinct, 
so  that  he  could  not  remember,  in  the  afternoon,  hav- 
ing preached  in  the  morning,  faith  and  love  and  hope 
were  as  strong  as  ever.  Indeed,  I  cannot  conceive  of 
nearer  approaches  to  perfection  in  this  world  than  he 
seems  to  have  made  during  the  last  years  of  his  life. 
He  says  that  God  works  in  his  people,  to  will  first, 
and  afterwards  to  do  ;  and  thinks  that  Christians  will 
to  do  good  many  years  before  they  actually  do  much. 
This  is  encouraging.  I  think  God  works  in  me  to 
will;  but  in  doings  my  progress  is  small  indeed." 

"  May  17,  1821. 
"My  dear  Mother, 

"  111  news  flies  so  fast,  and  becomes  so  much  exag- 
gerated in  its  progress,  that  I  should  not  wonder  if 
you  were  to  hear  a  rumor  that  I  am  dying,  if  not 
dead.  The  truth  is,  I  have  been  sick — perhaps  dange- 
rously so.  About  three  months  since  I  began  to  be 
troubled  with  a  slight  cough.  It  gradually  grew  worse, 
and  was  attended  with  loss  of  appetite,  pain  in  the 
chest,  difficulty  of  breathing,  daily  accession  of  fever, 
and  spitting  of  blood.  It  is  nearly  a  month  since  I 
have  been  obliged  to  give  up  preaching,  and  have  re- 
course to  emetics,  blistering,  bleeding,  &c.  By  the 
blessing  of  God  attending  these  means  I  am  now  al- 
most well  again,  and  hope  to  be  able  soon  to  resume 
my  labors.  I  am,  however,  still  weak,  and  cannot 
write  much  ;  but  I  was  fearful  you  would  hear  that  I 
am  worse  than  I  really  am,  and  therefore  thought  it 
best  to  write  a  few  lines." 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  423 

"  June  8.  This  is  a  most  melancholy  day  to  me.  It 
is  the  Sabbath  on  which  we  should  have  had  the  com- 
munion ;  but  we  have  no  one  to  preach  for  us.  My 
flock  are  scattered,  and  I  can  only  look  on  and  groan. 
My  health  is  in  such  a  state  that  I  can  feel  nothing 
but  misery.  However,  this  blow  seemed  to  touch  me. 
I  saw  that  it  was  just,  though  I  can  scarcely  be  said 
to  have  felt  it.  To-morrow  I  expect  to  sail  for  Charles- 
ton, with  a  view  to  the  recovery  of  my  health ;  but  I 
go  with  a  heavy  heart.  There  appears  little  prospect 
of  its  proving  beneficial. 

"  July  16. 

"  I  am  just  returned  from  Charleston.  My  health  is 
much  improved.  I  had  a  very  pleasant  passage  out; 
but  a  most  tedious  and  unpleasant  return.  The  cap- 
tain who  carried  me  out  was  as  kind  as  possible.  I 
hope  he  has  his  reward.  He  offered  to  carry  me  to 
Europe,  and  bring  me  back.  It  would  have  been  grati- 
fying to  see  Old  England ;  but  I  could  not  spare -the 
time. 

"  July  16.  O  how  much  better  is  God  to  me  than 
my  fears,  and  even  than  my  hopes  !  how  ready  to  an- 
swer prayer !  This  afternoon  he  has  banished  my  fears 
and  sorrows,  strengthened  my  faith,  revived  my  hopes, 
and  encouraged  me  to  go  on.  Had  a  precious  season 
in  visiting  and  praying  with  some  of  my  people,  and 
still  more  so  in  the  evening.  O  how  wise  and  good  is 
God  !  Now  I  can  see  it  was  best  that  I  should  not  be 
assisted  in  preaching  yesterday ;  for  it  drove  me,  in 
self-despair  to  the  throne  of  grace.  Whereas,^  had  I 
been  assisted,  I  might  have  remained  at  a  distance. 
And  I  desire  to  record  it  to  the  honor  of  God  and  my 


424  MEMOIR    OF 

own  shame,  that  I  never  went  to  him  in  distress,  with- 
out finding  almost  immediate  relief. 

"  Jwly  25.  This  day  I  am  thirty-eight  years  old.  I 
had  intended  to  make  it  a  day  of  family  thanksgiving, 
but  my  weakness  prevented.  Indeed,  ill  health  is  an 
obstacle  continually  in  my  way,  almost  wholly  ob- 
structing my  usefulness  and  growth  in  grace.  Half 
my  time  I  am  so  languid  in  body  and  mind  that  I  can 
do  nothing ;  and  the  other  half  I  am  very  far  from  be- 
ing well.  But  God  has  hitherto  graciously  supported 
me,  so  that,  though  cast  down,  I  am  not  yet  destroyed. 
As  to  resolving  that  I  will  do  better  in  future,  I  have 
no  courage  to  do  it.  The  loss  of  so  many  years 
withers  my  strength  and  courage,  and  dries  up  my 
spirits." 

"  August  6,  1821. 

"  Since  I  wrote  last  there  has  been  quite  a  change 
in  me.  Then  my  health  was  better,  but  my  mind  sick. 
Now  my  mind  is  comparatively  at  ease,  but  my  health 
has  sunk  down  nearly  to  its  old  standard.  However, 
this  state  is  vastly  more  comfortable  than  the  former, 
and  I  desire  to  be  satisfied.  I  think,  my  dear  mother, 
you  may  dismiss  all  anxiety  respecting  me.  I  am  in 
wise  and  good  hands,  and  do  not  suffer  more  than  is 
absolutely  necessary." 

"  Sept.  1.  While  lying  awake  last  night  enjoyed 
most  delightful  views  of  God  as  a  Father.  Felt  that 
my  happiness  is  as  dear  to  him  as  to  myself;  that  he 
would  not  willingly  hurt  one  hair  of  my  head,  nor  let 
me  suffer  a  moment's  unnecessary  pain.  Felt  that  he 
was  literally  as  willing  to  give  as  I  could  be  to  ask. 
Seemed,  indeed,  to  have  nothing  to  ask  for." 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  '  425 

In  a  letter,  dated  September  10th,  after  alluding  to 
"  sore  trials,"  and  especially  to  one  of  several  events 
which  had  a  most  melancholy  and  disastrous  aspect  on 
the  religious  prospects  of  the  church,  he  says,  "  This, 
coming  just  when  we  were  expecting  a  revival,  was 
peculiarly  grievous ;  but  I  still  hope,  after  God  has 
crushed  us  into  the  dust  he  will  exalt  us.  He  has  been 
most  wonderfully  gracious  to  me  during  these  trials. 
Never  before  have  I  enjoyed  such  consolations.  It 
seems  as  evident  as  noon-day,  that  the  same  love 
which  prompted  the  Savior  to  bear  the  curse  for  us, 
would  have  led  him  to  bear  all  our  afflictions  for  us, 
were  it  not  absolutely  necessary  that  we  should  suifer 
in  our  own  persons.  I  see,  I  feel  that  he  would  as 
soon  wound  the  apple  of  his  eye  as  give  one  of  his 
people  a  moment's  needless  pain.  I  care  not  what 
trials  may  come,  for  I  know  that  they  will  be  for  my 
good,  and  that  he  will  support  me." 

At  the  commencement  at  Bowdoin  College  this 
month,  he  received  the  degree  of  Doctor  in  Divinity ; 
but  writes  to  his  mother-^"  I  beg  you  not  to  address 
your  letters  to  me  by  that  title,  for  I  shall  never  make 
use  of  it." 

"  Sept,  19.  Last  night,  while  lying  awake,  had 
more  distinct  apprehensions  of  God's  greatness  than 
at  any  previous  tim^e.  Realized  little  of  any  thing 
else  except  simple  greatness ;  and  this,  although  I 
seemed  to  have  no  views  compared  with  what  might 
be,  almost  crushed  me  to  death.  I  could  not  move  a 
limb,  nor  scarcely  breathe.  Saw  how  easily  a  little 
view  of  God  might  destroy  us.  Could  realize  more 
than  ever  that  a  clear  view  of  God  must  be  hell  to 
the  wicked ;  for  had  any  sense  of  his  anger  accom- 

M.  p.  36* 


426  MEMOIR    OF 

panied  this  view  of  his  greatness,  I  could  not  have 
supported  it. 

"  Oct.  11.  Still  my  cup  runs  over  with  blessings. 
God  graciously  continues  to  grant  me  his  presence 
when  I  lie  down  and  when  I  rise  up  ;  though  he  every 
day  sees  enough  in  me  to  justify  him  in  leaving  me 
for  ever." 

"  October  15. 

"  God  continues  to  be  wonderfully  gracious 

to  me  in  spiritual  things.  I  know  not  what  it  means. 
I  never  was  so  happy  for  so  long  a  time  before.  I 
suspect  some  grievous  trial  is  approaching.  Let  it 
come  if  God  pleases.  While  he  is  with  me  I  feel  en- 
tirely independent  of  all  circumstances,  creatures,  and 
events.  Yet  creature  comforts  are  pleasant,  when  we 
can  enjoy  God  in  them. 

"  I  fear will  do  the  church  little  good. 

At  first  it  seemed  to  affect  them  in  a  proper  manner, 
but  the  impression  is  fast  wearing  aivay.  Whether 
God  will  scourge  them  still  more  severely,  or  whether 
he  will  come  and  melt  them  into  repentance  by  unex- 
pected displays  of  mercy,  I  do  not  know.  If  I  could 
see  them  made  to  feel  what  a  God  Jehovah  is,  and 
what  a  Savior  Christ  is,  and  what  a  place  heaven  is  ! 
But  I  do  not.  Still,  when  I  look  at  God  in  Christ,  and 
see  how  good,  how  gracious,  how  condescending,  how 
powerful  he  is,  I  am  compelled,  in  spite  of  myself,  to 
hope,  and  almost  to  feel  sure  that  I  shall,  sooner  or 
later,  see  a  revival  of  religion  here.  It  may  be,  how- 
ever, that  this  bright  day  is  designed  only  to  prepare 
me  for  as  dark  a  night.  But  I  desire  to  do  present  du- 
ly, to  enjoy  with  humble  gratitude  present  happiness, 
and  let  to-morrow  take  thought  for  itself." 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  427 

'-^November  25. 

"  A  young  man,  member  of  our  church,  is  jus* 

settled,  and  a  revival  has  commenced.  About  fifty- 
are  awakened,  and  the  work  is  increasing.  He  makes 
the  fourth  member  of  our  church  who  has  been  settled 
since  I  came  here."  [Dr.  Payson  superintended  the 
preparation  of  several  young  men  for  the  ministry.] 

"  February  3,  1822. 

—  "If  ray  letter  takes  its  complexion  from  my 
feelings,  it  will  appear  gloomy  indeed.  Since  I  wrote 
last  it  has  been  a  season  of  trial  with  me.  E.  has  had 
a  terrible  abscess,  which  we  feared  would  prove  too 
much  for  her  slender  constitution.  We  were  almost 
worn  out  with  watching ;  and,  just  as  she  began  to 
amend,  I  Avas  seized  with  a  violent  ague  in  my  face, 
which  gave  me  incessant  anguish  for  six  days  and 
nights,  and  deprived  me  almost  entirely  of  sleep. 
Three  nights  I  did  not  once  close  my  eyes.  When  al- 
most distracted  with  pain  and  loss  of  sleep,  Satan  was  ■ 
let  loose  upon  me  to  buffet  me,  and  I  verily  thought 
would  have  driven  me  to  desperation  and  madness. 
Nor  is  my  situation  now  much  better.  The  fact  is,  my 
nervous  system,  at  all  times  weak,  has  been  so  shat- 
tered by  pain,  and  watching,  and  strong  opiates,  which 
gave  no  relief,  that  I  am  sunk  in  gloom  and  despon- 
dency, and  can  only  write  bitter  things  against  my- 
self. Surely  no  one  suffers  so  much  unprofitable 
misery  as  I  do.  I  call  it  unprofitable,  because  it  is  of 
such  a  nature  that  I  do  not  see  how  it  possibly  can 
produce  any  good  effect.  It  only  weakens,  dispirits, 
and  discourages  me. 

"  We  have  had  a  few  instances  of  conviction,  aau 


428  MEMOIR   OF 

at  least  one  of  conversion,  since  I  wrote  last ;  and  the 
church,  I  hope,  is  gaining  ground.  You  will  be  glad 
to  hear  that  eight  or  ten  are  awakened  in  Gorham." 

"  February  5. 

"  I  can  now  write  in  a  less  dismal  strain.  I  am  not 
happy,  but  I  am  less  wretched.  1  feel  that  while  such 
a  creature  as  I  am  is  out  of  hell,  I  have  great  reason 
for  thankfulness.  But  my  flesh  trembles  and  my 
blood  almost  runs  cold,  when  I  look  back  upon  what 
[  have  suffered.  Certainly  a  very  large  proportion 
of  my  path  lies  through  the  valley  of  the  shadow  of 
death.  Bishop  Hall  says — 'None  out  of  hell  have 
suffered  so  much  as  some  of  God's  children ;'  and  I 
believe  it.  I  should  not,  however,  much  regard  my 
sufferings,  if  they  were  sanctified." 

"  February  19. 

"You  will  be  glad,  my  dear  mother,  to  hear  that 
the  man  who  had  the  legion  is  sitting  at  the  feet  of 
Jesus,  in  his  right  mind.  I  had  obtained  some  relief 
when  I  wrote  you  last,  but  it  proved  of  short  continu- 
ance ;  the  clouds  returned  after  the  rain,  and  I  was 
again  in  the  horrible  pit  and  miry  clay,  and  there  re- 
mained till  the  next  Sabbath.  But  now,  I  trust,  the 
devil  is  cast  out,  though,  as  he  departed  from  our  Sa- 
vior only  for  a  season,  I  know  not  how  soon  he  may 
return.  You  know  Mr.  Newton  thinks,  that,  compa- 
ratively speaking,  he  fights  with  neither  small  nor 
great,  except  with  ministers.  I  know  not  how  this 
may  be ;  but  if  he  torments  others  as  he  does  me,  I  am 
sure  I  pity  them.  I  am  now  so  worn  out  with  suffer- 
ing and  conflict  that  I  seem  incapable  of  enjoyment; 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  429 

but  I   feel   quiet  and  peaceful,   and  that  is  a  great 
mercy. 

"  The  symptoms  of  a  revival  increase  among  us. 
Perhaps  a  dozen  have  been  awakened  and  three  have 
obtained  hope  since  I  wrote  last,  I  was  sent  for  to- 
day to  see  a  man  ninety-two  years  old,  who,  after  a 
long  life  of  sin,  is  awakened  in  his  old  age.  His  situ- 
ation, on  the  whole,  seems  encouraging,  though  he  is 
nearly  blind  and  deaf." 

"  February  26. 

"  The  revival  has  been  advancing,  and  there  now 
seems  to  be  every  reason  to  hope  that  God  has  begun 
a  great  work  among  us.  I  would  not  be  too  sanguine, 
but  things  look  more  favorable  than  they  have  for  se- 
ven or  eight  years.  Every  day  I  have  two,  and  three, 
and  four  inquirers  to  see  me,  and  their  convictions  are 
very  deep  and  pungent.  Three  have  just  obtained 
hope. 

"  I  rejoice  the  more  in  this  work,  because  it  enables 
me  to  stop  the  mouth  of  my  old  adversary,  and  to 
prove  to  his  face  that  he  is  a  liar.  1  could  not  doubt 
that  I  had  been  enabled  to  pray  for  a  revival  these 
many  years.  Nor  could  I  persuade  myself  that  Christ 
had  not  promised  it  to  me.  The  essence  of  a  promise 
consists  in  voluntarily  exciting  expectations  of  some 
benefit.  In  this  sense,  a  revival  had  often  been  pro- 
mised to  me.  And  when  it  was  not  granted ;  when, 
one  time  after  another,  promising  appearances  died 
away ;  and  especially  when  I  was  left  to  such  exer- 
cises as  rendered  it  impossible  that  I  should  be  favor- 
ed with  a  revival — Satan  had  a  fine  opportunity  to 
work  upon  my  unbelief,  and  to  ask,  Where  is  your 


430  MEMOIR    OF 

God  ?  what  do  you  get  by  praying  to  him  ?  and  where 
is  the  levival  which  he  has  been  so  long  encouraging 
you  to  expect,  and  to  pray  for?  Now  I  can  answer 
these  questions  triumphantly,  and  put  the  lying  tongue 
to  silence.  But  the  work  is  all  God's ;  and  I  stand 
and  look  on  to  see  him  work  5  and  this  is  favor  enough, 
and  infinitely  more  than  I  deserve. 

"  You  spoke  in  your  last  of  poor .     Rich,  you 

would  call  him  now,  if  you  could  see  him.     He  has 

made  more  progress  in  religion  since .  than  he 

would  in  twenty  years  of  ordinary  advancement.  I 
feel  like  a  child  when  talking  with  him.  Truly  God's 
ways  are  not  like  ours.  Meanwhile  poor  brother  R. 
who  is  not  half  so  undeserving  of  a  revival  as  I  am, 
is  laid  aside  just  as  soon  as  favorable  symptoms 
begin  to  appear.  His  physicians  speak  very  dis- 
couragingly." 

'^  March  7.  Preached  in  the  evening  to  the  largest 
assembly  that  I  had  ever  addressed  at  a  Thursday  lec- 
ture. Came  home  encouraged,  and  rejoicing  in  God. 
The  work  is  his — I  am  nothing,  and  love  to  be  no- 
thing. Dare  not  promise  to  serve  God  more  faith- 
fully. However  extensive  a  revival  he  may  send,  I 
shall  again  be  stupid  and  ungrateful,  unless  he  pre- 
vent." 

"  March  17. 

"  The  revival  goes  on.  Fifteen,  we  hope,  are  con- 
verted ;  and  four  times  that  number  under  deep  im- 
pressions. But  in  the  midst  of  it  I  am  laid  aside.  My 
lungs  have  been  failing  for  several  weeks,  and  I  can 
preach  no  longer.     After  my  last  Thursday  lecture  1 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  431 

had  a  strange  turn.  Every  body  thought  I  was  dying. 
It  was  occasioned  by  an  inability  in  the  heart  to  free 
itself  from  the  blood  which  poured  in  upon  it.  How- 
ever, the  doctor  came,  and  took  a  large  quantity  of 
blood,  which  relieved  me.  But  I  am  just  as  I  was 
last  spring,  and  unless  God  interposes  to  help  me, 
shall  be  unable  to  preach  for  weeks.  You  may  well 
suppose  that  this  is  a  trying  dispensation ;  but  so  far  I 
am  kept  quiet  under  it.  I  feel  that  it  is  not  qnly  just, 
but  wise  and  kind.  Poor  brother  Rand  is  in  the  same 
situation.  The  revival  among  his  people  increases, 
but  he  can  do  nothing.  I  wish  P.  was  here ;  we  both 
need  him." 

"  May  20,  1823. 

"  Caesar,  speaking  of  one  of  his  many  battles 

which  was  severely  contested,  observed  that  on  for- 
mer occasions  he  had  fought  for  victory,  but  then  he 
fought  for  life.  Even  so  it  is  with  me.  Once  I  fought 
for  victory,  and  no  ordinary  victory  would  satisfy  me ; 
but  my  strength,  and  courage,  and  ambition  are  now 
so  crushed,  t-hat  I  fight  merely  for  life,  and  I  am  scarce- 
ly able  to  secure  even  that.  Still  I  hope  for  victory 
ultimately.  I  have  just  finished  a  sermon  on  Heze- 
kiah's  petition — '  O  Lord,  I  am  oppressed ;  undertake 
for  me.'  It  has  given  me  some  comfort ;  it  ought  to 
give  me  more.  Indeed,  if  we  properly  considered 
who  Christ  is,  and  what  he  has  undertaken  to  do  for 
us,  we  should  never  need  consolation,  but  might,  like 
St.  Paul,  though  sorrowful,  be  always  rejoicing;  and 
say  with  him — 'Blessed  be  God,  who  hath  blessed 
us  with  all  spiritual  blessings  in  heavenly  things  in 
Christ  Jesus.'  I  have  prepared  another  sermon  from 
a  succeeding  passage  in  the  same  chapter — '  Thou 


432  MEMOIR   OF 

hast,  in  love  to  my  soul,  delivered  it  from  the  pit  of 
corruption.'  The  words  'delivered  it'  are  not  in 
the  original ;  and  as  Father  Henry  observes,  the  pas- 
sage may  be  read — '  Thou  hast  loved  my  soul  from 
the  pit  of  corruption ;  thou  hast  loved  my  soul  when 
it  was  in  the  pit  of  corruption,  and  thou  hast  loved  it 
out  of  the  pit  of  corruption ;  not  merely  taken  it  out, 
and  redeemed  it  out,  but  loved  it  out^  " 

"  May  25. 

"  My  sermon  on  Christ's  undertaking  for  us  does 
me  more  and  more  good.  I  wish  I  could  impart  to  you 
som^  of  the  comfort  which  it  gives  me.  I  wish  to  get 
away  from  frames  and  feelings,  and  live  continually 
on  the  precious  truth — '  Christ  has  undertaken  for  me.' 
He  is  able,  he  is  faithful,  he  will  keep  what  he  has 
undertaken  to  keep,  he  will  do  all  he  has  undertaken 
to  do.  Another  passage  has  been  very  sweet  to  me 
this  morning,  and  I  think  I  shall  preach  upon  it  next 
Sabbath  : — '  He  hath  made  us  accepted  in  the  Beloved.' 
To  be  accepted  of  God,  to  be  accepted  in  his  beloved 
Son — what  an  honor  !  what  a  privilege  !  Well  may 
it  be  said  to  every  one  who  enjoys  it,  '  Go  thy  way, 
eat  thy  bread  with  joy,  and  drink  thy  wine  with  a 
merry  heart ;  for  God  now  accepteth  thy  works.' 

"  Our  church  began  last  winter  to  employ  a  domes- 
tic missionary.  They  sent  him  to  a  town  which  has 
long  been  without  a  minister,  and  where,  just  before, 
a  vain  attempt  had  been  made  to  raise  one  hundred 
dollars  to  pay  for  preaching.  His  labors  produced  such 
effect,  that  they  have  now  raised  a  fund  which  will 
support  a  minister  for  ever.  They  have  also  given  our 
missionary  a  unanimous  call  to  settle  with  them.  We 


tDW'-ARD    PAY30N.  433 

Bliall  make  a  similar  experiment  in  another  town  as 
soon  as  we  can  find  a  suitable  missionary.  How  much 
is  money  worth  at  such  a  time  as  this  !" 

Dr.  Payson  describes  a  species  of  trial  to  which  he 
was  twice  subjected,  that  will  probably,  at  the  first 
glance,  surprise  those  who  were  acquainted  with  his 
strong  confidence  in  revelation,  and  his  rich  experience 
in  the  consolations  of  religion.  It  shows  most  vividly 
the  awful  malice  of  the  "  accuser  of  the  brethren," 
whose  power  to  distress  Christians,  as  well  as  his 
agency  among  "the  children  of  disobedience,"  is  great- 
ly underrated  at  the  present  day  ;  as  even  his  existence 
is  extensively  doubted.  Against  the  servant  of  God, 
who  was  making  such  inroads  upon  his  kingdom,  he 
seems  to  have  directed  all  his  "  fiery  darts."  They  gave 
temporary  pain,  but  inflicted  no  mortal  wound.  The 
adversary  was  foiled. 


"  I  have  been  sick,  and  laid  by  from  preaching 

on  thanksgiving  day  and  two  Sabbaths,  but  am  now 
able  to  resume  ray  labors.  But  O  the  temptations  which 
have  harassed  me  for  the  last  three  months  !  I  have 
met  with  nothing  like  them  in  books.  I  dare  not  men- 
tion them  to  any  mortal,  lest  they  should  trouble  him 
as  they  have  troubled  me ;  but,  should  I  become  an 
apostate  and  Avrite  against  religion,  it  seems  to  me 
that  I  could  bring  forward  objections  which  would 
shake  the  faith  of  all  the  Christians  in  the  world. 
What  T  marvel  at  is,  that  the  arch-deceiver  has  never 
been  permitted  to  suggest  them  to  some  of  his  scribes, 
and  have  them  published.  They  would,  or  I  am  much 
mistaken,  make   fearful   work  with  Christians  for  a 

M.  r.  37 


434  MEMOIR    OF 

lime,  though  God  would,  doubtless,  enable  them  to 
overcome  in  the  end.  It  seems  to  me  that  my  state 
has  been  far  worse  than  that  of  Mansoul  Avas  when 
Diabolus  and  his  legions  broke  into  the  town.  They 
could  not  get  into  the  castle,  the  heart;  but  my  castle 
was  full  of  them.  But  do  not  be  troubled  for  me  ;  I  am 
now  better.    Let  me  then  try  to  comfort  my  mother." 

The  other  passage,  depicting  a  similar  conflict,  was 
written  about  a  year  and  a  half  after  the  above  : 

"  It  seems  to  me  that  those  who  die  young,  like 
Brainerd  and  Martyn,  knoAV  almost  nothing  of  the  dif- 
ficulty of  persevering  in  the  Christian  race.  iVly  diffi- 
culties increase  every  year.  All  the  atheistical,  deis- 
tical,  and  heretical  objections  Avhich  I  meet  with  in 
books,  are  childish  babblings,  compared  with  those 
"which  Satan  suggests,  and  which  he  urges  upon  the 
mind  with  a  force  which  seems  irresistible.  Yet  I  am 
often  obliged  to  write  sermons,  and  to  preach,  when 
these  objections  beat  upon  me  like  a  whirlwind,  and 
almost  distract  mc.  When  he  asks,  as  he  does  conti- 
nually ask.  What  have  you  gained  by  all  your  prayers  ? 
I  know  not  v/hat  to  reply.  However,  pray  I  must,  and, 
God  assisting  me,  jiray  I  will.  The  way  is  indeed  dif- 
ficult, but  I  can  devise  no  other  which  is  not  more  so. 
There  is  no  one  to  whom  I  can  go  if  I  forsake  Christ." 

These  last  quoted  passages  are  adapted,  not  to  raise 
doubts  respecting  the  genuineness  and  authenticity  of 
revelation,  bat  to  strengthen  our  confidence  in  it  as  the 
sure  icord  of  God  ichich  endurcth  for  ever.  The  ob- 
vious and  legitimate  inference  from  them  is,  that  the 
Bible  can  sustain,  uninjuretl.  attacks  and  objections 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  435 

more  formidable  than  any  which  have  been  directed 
against  it  by  the  mightiest  infidels. 

'■'Jan.  1,  1824.  Rose  early,  and  tried  to  pray;  but  a 
weak,  languid  frame  crushed  me  down.  I  have,  how- 
ever, reason  to  bless  God  that  he  allows  such  a  wretch 
as  I  am  to  serve  him  at  all.  Groaned  and  struggled 
v/itli  my  weakness  before  God.  Read  a  number  of 
passages  in  my  diary,  especially  what  is  recorded 
under  date  of  Dec.  16,  1815.  Am  glad  I  kept  a  jour- 
nal ;  I  had  otherwise  forgotten  much  of  what  I  have 
done  against  God,  and  of  what  he  has  done  for  me. 
Was  confounded  at  what  I  read.  My  words  are  swal- 
lowed up.  My  life,  my  ministry  has  been  madness, 
madness  !  What  shall  I  do  ?  where  shall  I  hide  ?  To 
sin,  after  I  had  sinned  so  much,  and  after  I  had  been 
forgiven  !  But  I  cannot  write  !  I  cannot  think  !  And 
if  my  sins  appear  so  black  in  my  book,  how  must  they 
appear  in  God's ! 

"  Jan.  29.  Have  had  much  to  be  thankful  for,  and 
much  to  be  ashamed  of  for  some  days  past.  God  has 
been  more  than  ordinarily  gracious  to  me,  granting  me 
liberty  of  access  to  him  in  prayer,  and  permitting  me 
lo  be  in  some  degree  useful.  I  have  received  many 
tokens  of  warm  affection  from  his  people,  and  been  as- 
sisted in  my  work.  .  .  .  Have  learned  a  lesson  which 
I  oughi  to  have  learned  before.  I  am  religiously  ro- 
mantic. I  am  always  expecting  something  out  of  the 
common  course,  and  planning  what  God  is  going  to  do. 

"May  15.  Rode  to  G.  to  give  them  a  day's  preach- 
ing, as  they  are  destitute.  Took  up  a  poor  cripple  by 
the  way,  and  preached  Christ  to  him.  Felt  some  pity 
and  love  for  him  while  talking.  A  curious  combina- 
tion of  circumstances  threw  him  in  my  way.    Could 


436  MEMOIR  or 

not  but  think  how  we  both  should  admire  the  leadings 
of  Providence,  it'  he  should  be  converted  in  conse- 
quence of  what  was  said  to  him. 

"July  20.  Perplexed  what  to  do.  My  people  wish 
me  to  go  to  Europe,  Tried  to  commit  the  case  to 
God. 

"  Oct.  17.  Slept  none  last  night,  and  my  sufferings 
were  great.  My  right  arm  seems  about  to  perish. 
Could  say,  God's  will  be  done. 

"  Nov.  7.  What  I  have  long  feared  has  come  upon 
me.  My  voice  and  my  faculties  are  half  gone  already, 
and  what  remains  is  rapidly  departing. 

"  Nov.  27.  Was  favored  with  a  most  precious  sea- 
son in  prayer.  Had  such  views  of  God  and  Christ ! 
Lay  and  mourned  at  his  feet  till  I  was  exhausted,  and 
longed  unutterably  to  be  more  holy,  and  to  have  others 
holy.    O  what  reason  have  I  to  bless  God  for  this  ! 

"Jan.  5,  1825.  At  the  concert  on  Monday  recom 
mended  to  the  church  to  imitate  the  Lord's  prayer,  and 
always  begin  their  supplication  with  praying  that  God's 
name  may  be  glorified.  Have  derived  much  benefit 
from  pursuing  this  practice.  Made  eleven  visits,  and 
felt  thankful  for  having  strength  to  do  it, 

"Jan.  31.  Felt  very  happy  and  dead  to  the  world 
all  day.  Rejoiced  in  God,  and  cared  not  what  he  did 
with  me. 

"  Feb.  9.  Had  a  delightful  season  in  prayer.  It 
seemed  as  if  it  was  only  to  ask  and  receive.  Had 
nothing  to  ask  for  myself,  except  that  I  might  be 
swalloAved  up  in  the  will  of  God. 

"  Feb.  15,  16.  Much  engaged  in  visiting.  Went  t* 
the  utmost  extent  of  my  strength.  Felt  insatiable  de 
sires  for  more  holiness." 


EDWARD    PAYSOX.  4-37 

"  Bosto7i,  March  21,  1825. 
*'  My  dear  Mother, 

"  I  value  your  letters  much,  and  your  prayers  still 
more  ;  and  sometimes  think  that  your  life  is  preserved, 
principally,  to  pray  for  your  children.  It  will  be  found, 
I  doubt  not,  in  the  coming  world,  that  ministers  had 
much  less  share  in  the  success  T/hich  attends  their 
labors,  than  is  novv^  supposed.  It  v^^ill  be  found,  that 
if  they  drew  the  bow,  the  prayers  of  Christians  point- 
ed and  guided  the  arrow.  I  preached  last  evening  to 
an  immense  concourse  of  people.  After  the  pews 
were  filled,  seats  were  brought  in  and  placed  in  all 
the  aisles.  So  far  as  I  know,  however,  very  little 
good  has  been  done  by  my  labors  here.  But  I  desire 
to  leave  it  all  with  God.  I  am  astonished  and  asham- 
ed by  the  kindness  with  which  his  people  here  treat 
me.         *  * 

"  You  express  a  wish  that  my  feelings  were  more 
equable.  I  wish  they  were.  But  I  am  so  completely 
Avretched  when  God  withdraws  from  me,  that  the  re- 
moval of  that  wretchedness  by  his  return  renders  me 
almost  too  happy.  This  thought  has  lately  been  of 
some  service  to  me.  Every  Christian  ought  to  love 
God  in  proportion  to  what  has  been  forgiven  him. 
But  every  Christian  knows  more  evil  of  himself  than 
he  can  know  of  any  other  human  being.  He  ought, 
therefore,  to  feel  as  if  more  had  been  forgiven  him, 
and  as  if  he  were  under  greater  obligations  to  love 
God  than  any  other  human  being  ;  as  if  it  were  wcrse 
for  him  to  sin  against  God  than  it  would  be  for  any 
other." 

M.  p,  37* 


438  MEMOIR   OF 

"  Portland,  July  27. 

"  I  had  attempted  to  observe  my  birth-day  as  a 

day  of  prayer,  but  apparently  to  no  purpose.  I  was 
so  unwell  that  I  could  do  nothing.  However,  the 
next  day,  the  blessings  which  I  wished  to  ask  for,  but 
could  not,  were  bestowed.  I  need  not  tell  you  how 
sweet,  how  soothing,  how  refreshing  Christ's  return- 
ing presence  is,  after  long  absence.  Still  I  am  borne 
down  in  such  a  manner  by  ill  health  that  I  can  but 
half  rejoice.  The  state  of  religion  among  us  helps 
also  to  crush  me.  There  never  has  been  so  entire  a 
suspension  of  divine  influences  since  my  settlement 
as  at  present.  Those  of  the  church  who  are  most  spi- 
ritual tell  me  that  they  never  found  it  so  difficult  to 
perform  religious  duties  as  they  do  now.  In  fine,  the 
church  seems  to  be  on  Bunyan's  enchanted  ground, 
and  many  of  them  are  sleeping  in  some  of  the  arbors 
which  he  mentions.  Whether  they  will  wake  before 
death,  seems  doubtful." 

"  September  29. 

"  I  preached  last  Sabbath  on  being  guilty  of  the 

blood  of  souls ;  and  endeavored  to  point  out  some  of 
the  ways  in  which  we  may  incur  this  guilt.  I  have 
incurred  but  too  much  of  it ;  and  it  lies  upon  me  with 
a  weight  which  I  know  not  how  to  bear,  but  which  I 
cannot  throw  off.  True,  blood  has  been  shed  for  us, 
which  has  efficacy  to  take  away  the  guilt  of  blood. 
But  though  this  consideration  may  keep  us  from  de- 
spair, it  cannot  shield  us,  or,  at  least,  cannot  shield 
one  whose  guilt  is  like  mine,  from  the  sufferings  oc- 
casioned by  self-reproach  and  a  wounded  spirit.  I 
seldom  think  of  the  time  I  spent  in  B.  without  a  pang, 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  439 

the  keenness  of  which  you  cannot  easily  conceive.  It 
IS  a  painful  thought  that  v/e  are  so  long  in  learning 
how  to  live,  that  ere  the  lesson  is  Avell  learned  life  is 
spent.  Another  subject  on  which  I  have  lately  been 
writing,  and  which  has  assisted  to  increase  my  de- 
pression, was  suggested  by  the  passage — 'E\en 
Christ  pleased  not  himself.'  If  any  one  who  ever 
lived  in  this  Avorld  had  a  right  to  please  himself,  he 
surely  had  such  a  right ;  yet  how  far  was  he  from  ex- 
ercising or  claiming  it !  He  evidently  adopted  and 
acted  upon  the  principle,  that  as  man,  he  was  not  his 
own ;  that  he  belonged  to  God  and  to  the  universe, 
and  that  he  must  do  nothing  merely  for  the  sake  of 
promoting  his  own  personal  gratification.  I  contem- 
plate this  example  with  feelings  similar  to  those  with 
Avhich  a  child  who  has  just  begun  to  hold  a  pen,  may 
be  supposed  to  look  upon  a  superb  copper-plate,  which 
he  is  required  to  imitate ;  or  rather  with  such  feelings 
as  one  might  indulge  who  had  been  learning  to  write 
for  many  years,  and  yet  found  himself  further  from 
resembling  his  copy  than  he  was  at  first." 

"  Nov.  4.  Quarterly  fast.  Went  to  meeting  feel- 
ing very  unwell,  and  found  very  few  assembled.  Was 
obliged  to  wait  half  an  hour  before  there  was  a  suffi- 
cient number  to  sing.  Was  entirely  overcome  by  dis- 
couragement. Could  not  say  a  Avord,  and  after  strug- 
gling in  vain  with  my  feelings,  Avas  obliged  to  state 
them  to  the  church  and  come  away. 

"  Nov.  9.  Installation  of  a  minister  over  the  Third 
Church  to-day.  Have  reason  to  be  thankful  that  I 
have  been  carried  through  this  business  of  separation 
so  well,  and  that  affection  for  those  who  have  left  us 
is  rather  increased  than  diminished." 


440  MEMOIR  or 

This  last  date  brings  us  down  to  a  period  from 
which  his  health  may  be  said  to  have  been  constantly 
declining.  The  progress  of  the  maladies  which  were 
wasting  away  his  frame  may  have  been  stayed  for  a 
few  days  or  weeks  in  succession  after  this,  but  their 
hold  on  him  was  never  more  weakened.  The  winter 
succeeding  Avas  one  of  infirmity  and  suffering.  He 
continued  to  preach  on  the  SabbatJi;  but  the  exhaus- 
tion consequent  upon  the  exertion  often  rendered  it 
difficult  for  him  to  reach  his  home,  distant  but  a  few 
rods.  So  much  overcome  was  he  as  to  be  physically 
unable  to  lead  the  devotions  of  his  own  family  ;  and 
his  Sabbath  nights  were  nights  of  restlessness  and 
anguish.  Still,  when  holy  time  again  returned  he 
longed  for  the  habitation  of  God's  house,  and  again 
repeated  his  efforts,  and  with  similar  consequences. 

Observing  with  alarm  this  prostration  of  his  strength, 
his  people,  in  the  spring  of  1S26,  resolved  upon  an  al- 
teration of  their  meeting-house,  with  a  view  to  his  re- 
lief. The  ceiling  was  brought  down  and  arched,  and 
the  floor  inclined  towards  the  pulpit,  by  Avhich  changes 
more  than  one  third  of  the  space  to  be  filled  by  the 
speaker's  voice  was  excluded,  and  the  difficulty  of  fill- 
ing it  diminished  in  a  still  greater  proportion.  It  was 
while  this  alteration  was  in  progress  that  he  made  his 
circuitous  and  last  journey  to  the  Springs,  which  has 
already  been  mentioned. 

On  arriving  there  he  said  to  Mr.  W.  in  allusion  to 
his  health — '•  I  am  in  pursuit  of  a  good  which  is  con- 
stantly flying  before  me,  and  which,  I  apprehend,  will 
for  ever  elude  my  grasp."—"  The  incessant  and  unre- 
mitted labor  of  years,"  adds  Mr.  W.  "  seemed  to  have 
left  him  but  a  viere  ivreck  of  being;  which  he  longed 


EDWARD    PAYS  ON  441 

to  be  rid  of  to  serve  God  in  a  region  of  poifect  health 
and  boundless  activity.  He  had  little  expectation  of 
recovering  his  health,  and  several  times  remarked 
that  if  it  was  the  will  of  God  to  take  him  away  speedi- 
ly, it  was  no  matter  how  soon  he  departed.  The  idea 
of  wearing  out  his  days  in  a  state  of  inactivity  and 
consequent  depression  was  distressing  to  him,  and 
made  him  deeply  solicitous  to  have  the  question  of  life 
and  death  fully  settled.  Sometimes,  said  he,  when  I 
retire  to  bed  I  shoald  be  happy  to  have  it  the  last 
night  of  my  life.  With  Job  he  might  say — '•  I  am  made 
to  possess  months  of  vanity,  and  wearisome  nights  are 
appointed  unto  me.  When  I  lie  down  I  say,  When 
shall  I  arise,  and  the  night  be  gone  ?  I  am  fall  of  toss- 
ings  to  and  fro  unto  the  dawning  of  the  day  !  When 
I  say,  My  bed  shall  comfort  me,  and  my  couch  shall 
ease  my  complaint ;  then  thou  scarest  me  with  dreams, 
and  terrifiest  me  with  night  visions ;  so  that  my  soul 
chooseth  strangling  and  death  rather  than  life.  I  loathe 
it;  I  would  not  live  alway." 

Mr.  W imagined — and  in  this  he  was  unques- 
tionably correct — that  the  sufferings  of  Dr.  Payson 
were  greater  than  any  one  knew  or  suspected ;  and  he 
adds,  "  they  were  endured,  for  the  most,  in  silence. 
At  midnight  he  would  arise  and  walk  his  room,  sing- 
ing some  plaintive  air.  At  first  I  knew  not  what  to 
make  of  the  umvonted  and  mournful  sounds  which 
broke  in  upon  my  slumbers;  and  often,  as  the  sound 
softly  died  away,  my  soul  was  filled  with  sadness.  He 
complained  much  of  his  head.  In  one  conversation 
he  dwelt  particularly  on  the  causes  which  had  opera- 
ted to  undermine  and  destroy  his  health.  Among  them 
was  his  great  and  increasing  anxiety  for  a  general  and 


442  MEMOIR    OF 

powerful  revival  of  religion  among  his  people;  his  in- 
cessant labors  to  secure  so  great  a  blessing,  and  the 
repeated  disappointments  he  had  experienced  from 
year  to  year.  We  would  seem,  said  Dr.  Payson,  to  be 
on  the  eve  of  an  extensive  revival,  and  my  hopes  would 
be  correspondently  raised ;  and  then  the  favorable  ap- 
pearances woulci  vanish  away.  Under  the  powerful 
excitement  of  hope,  and  under  the  succeeding  depres- 
sion arising  from  disappointment,  my  strength  failed, 
and  I  sunk  rapidly  under  my  labors.  He  spoke  of  hav- 
ing been  under  a  temptation,  constantly,  to  labor  be- 
yond his  strength;  and  believed  many  a  faithful  mi- 
nister had  thus  been  tempted  by  Satan  to  cut  short  his 
days.  In  this  way  his  own  life  had  been  shortened. 
When,  in  a  season  of  excitement,  he  had  exhausted 
his  whole  strength,  even  then  Satan  suggested  that 
he  had  not  done  enough,  but  must  do  much  more,  or 
be  counted  unfaithful." 

This  ceaseless  anxiety  for  a  revival  appears  the  more 
remarkable,  when  contemplated  in  connection  Avith  the 
fact  that  the  church  was  continually  growing  under 
his  ministrations,  and  the  congregation  enlarging,  till 
there  was  not  room  enough  to  receive  them.  In  one 
year  of  his  ministry  the  church  received  an  accession 
of  seventy-three,  and  in  the  year  of  his  death  seventy- 
nine  ;  and  the  average  number  was  more  than  thirty- 
five  a  year  during  the  whole  of  his  ministry.  If  there 
were  an  entire  suspension  of  divine  influences  at  any 
time,  it  was  of  temporary  duration.  Judging  from  the 
accessions  made  to  the  church,  there  must  have  been 
a  constant  and  gradual  work  of  God.  If  the  term  of  his 
ministry  be  divided  into  periods  of  five  years,  the  num- 
ber added  in  each  period    differs  from  that  of  every 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  443 

Other  period  by  a  comparatively  small  number.  The 
diiference  is  in  favor  of  the  first  two  periods,  when, 
with  fewer  bodily  infirmities,  he  "  ceased  not  daily,  and 
from  house  to  house,  to  testify  repentance  towards  God, 
and  faith  in  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ." 

About  mid-sunmer  he  returned  from  his  last  excur- 
sion abroad  to  the  bosom  of  his  family  and  flock,  and 
continued  to  employ  the  little  strength  which  remained 
in  making  known  Jesus  Christ,  and  him  crucified. 
From  l..is  labor  no  entreaties  could  prevail  with  him 
to  desist.  He  continued  to  occupy  his  pulpit  on  the 
Sabbath,  for  the  most  part,  through  the  following  v/in- 
ter ;  notwithstanding  parts  of  his  body,  particularly  his 
right  arm,  had  already  begun  to  perish,  and  were  not 
only  useless,  but  an  incumbrance.  But  while  "  the  out- 
ward man  decayed,  the  inward  man  was  renewed  day 
by  day."  This  is  in  a  degree  true  of  his  mental  facul- 
ties, as  well  as  of  his  religious  progress.  The  corus- 
cations of  his  intellect  delighted  and  astonished  his 
visiters.  Among  these  was  the  Secretary  of  the  Ame- 
rican Education  Society,  who,  asking  Dr.  Payson  for 
a  message  which  he  might  carry  from  him  to  benefi- 
ciaries, received  the  following  impromptu  : 

"  What  if  God  should  place  in  your  hand  a  diamondj 
and  tell  you  to  inscribe  on  it  a  sentence  Vv^hich  should 
be  read  at  the  last  day,  and  shown  there  as  an  index 
of  your  own  thoughts  and  feelings  ?  What  care,  what 
caution  would  you  exercise  in  the  selection  !  Now, 
this  is  what  God  has  done.  He  has  placed  before  you 
immortal  minds,  more  imperishable  than  the  diamond 
on  Avhich  you  are  about  to  inscribe,  every  day  and 
every  hour,  by  your  instructions,  by  your  spirit,  or  by 


444  MtMotR  at 

your  example,  something  which  -will  remain,  and  be 
exhibited  for  or  against  you  at  the  judgment  day." 

We  shall  close  our  extracts,  and  this  chapter,  with 
tAvo  short  letters  to  his  mother,  the  last  he  ever  wrote  : 

''February  1,  1S27. 
"  My  dear  Mother, 

"  I  have  just  received  your  letter,  and  tliough  I  am 
obliged  to  write  with  my  left  hand,  and  that  is  numb, 
I  must  try  to  scratch  a  few  lines  in  reply.  I  am  no  bet- 
ter ;  am  tolerably  contented  and  happy,  but  have  not 
much  sensible  consolation.  We  have  increasing  evi- 
dence that  L.  is  become  pious;  but  E.  who  seemed 
to  be  awakened,  has  lost  his  impressions.  You  have 
probably  heard  that  Mr.  R.  hopes  that  H.  is  converted. 
We  have  about  a  dozen  hopeful  converts,  and  appear- 
ances are  encouraging.  I  have  much  to  be  thankful  for. 
Wife,  children  and  people,  all  try  to  minister  to  my 
comfort.  I  rejoice  to  hear  that  your  mind  is  in  so  de- 
sirable a  frame,  though  I  expected  no  less.  God  has 
not  led  you  so  far  to  forsake  you  at  last.  Should  you 
be  taken  away  before  me  I  shall  iec\  as  Eiisha  did 
when  he  lost  Elijah ;  for  I  doubt  not  your  prayers  have 
been  of  great  service  to  me.  I  received  a  letter  from 
G.  lately,  inviting  me  to  come  and  spend  part  of  the 
winter  at  New-York.  1  thank  him,  but  I  cannot  come. 
Home  is  the  only  place  for  a  cripple,  who  can  neither 
dress  nor  undress  himself;  besides,  I  can  be  of  some 
service  to  my  people  while  here.  I  have  many  things 
to  say,  but  writing  is  so  wearisome  and  painful  that  I 
can  add  nothing  more.  Assure  G.  and  E.  of  my  warm- 
est love,  and  believe  me 

"  Your  affectionate  son." 


EDWARD   PAY30X.  445 

"  February  20. 
"  My  dear  Mother, 

"  I  wrote  the  inclosed  letter  three  weeks  since,  and 
sent  it  by  a  man  who  said  he  was  going  to  New-York; 
but  after  I  hoped  it  had  arrived  there,  it  came  back  to 
me  again.  I  have  just  received  your  last  Letter,  and 
what  shall  I  say  in  reply  ?  If  my  hand  v/ould  permit 
I  could  say  much ;  if  my  health  would  allow  of  it,  I 
would  come  and  see  you.  As  it  is,  I  can  only  say, 
God  be  with  you,  my  dear  mother,  and  bless  you,  as 
he  has  made  you  a  blessing  to  me.  If  it  be  his  will 
that  we  should  not  meet  again  in  this  world,  I  must 
say — Farewell,  for  a  short  time  ;  for  short,  I  trust,  will 
be  the  time  before  we  meet  again.  Farewell,  then, 
my  dear,  dear  mother !  for  a  short  time,  farewell !" 

It  proved  to  be  the  last  farewell.  His  mother,  a  few 
days  afterwards,  was  called  to  her  eternal  home. 


CHAPTER    XX. 

tils  last  labors — His  spiritual  joys,  heavenly  counsels,  and 
brightening  intellect,  during  the  j^rogress  of  his  disease-^ 
His  triumphant  death. 

Dr.  Payson  was  at  length  compelled  to  yield  to  the 
irresistible  power  of  disease.  Parts  of  his  body,  in- 
cluding his  right  arm  and  left  side,  were  very  singu- 
larly affected.  They  were  incapable  of  motion,  and 
lost  all  sense  of  feeling  externally  ;  while,  in  the  in- 
terior parts  of  the  limbs  thus  affected,  he  experienced, 

M.  p.  38 


446  MEMOIR  or 

at  intervals,  a  most  intense  burning  sensation,  which 
he  compared  to  a  stream  of  fused  metal  or  liquid  fire 
coursing  through  his  bones.  No  external  applications 
were  of  the  least  service  ;  and  in  addition  to  his  acute 
sufferings  from  this  source,  he  was  frequently  subject 
to  most  violent  attacks  of  nervous  head-ache. 

It  was  with  great  reluctance  that  he  relinquished 
preaching.  "  The  spirit  continued  willing  "  long  after 
the  "  flesh  failed."  But  who  can  resist  the  appoint- 
ment of  Heaven  !  The  decree  had  gone  forth  that  he 
must  die;  and  the  progress  of  his  complicated  mala- 
dies declared  but  too  unequivocally  that  the  decree 
must  soon  be  executed.  He  did  not,  however,  cease 
preaching  at  once,  but  at  first  secured  assistance  for 
half  the  day  only.  An  arrangement  to  this  effect, 
which  was  expected  to  continue  several  weeks,  com- 
menced on  the  second  Sabbath  of  March.  He  occu- 
pied the  pulpit  in  the  morning.  His  text  was,  "  7Vie 
word  of  the  Lord  is  tried."  The  sermon  was  not  writ- 
ten, of  course  ;  but  no  one  that  he  ever  wrote,  not  even 
his  celebrated  discourse  on  the  Bible,  was  more  in- 
structive and  eloquent  than  this ;  particularly  those 
parts  in  which  he  described  the  trials  to  which  '•  the 
icord  of  the  Lord''''  had  been  subjected  by  its  enemies, 
and  the  tests  of  a  different  character  which  it  had  sus- 
tained from  its  friends.  Never  scarcely  were  the 
mightiest  infidels  made  to  appear  so  puny,  insignifi- 
cant, and  foolish.  "  He  Avho  sitteth  in  the  heavens" 
could  almost  be  seen  "  deriding  them."  When  de- 
scribing the  manner  in  Avhich  Christians  had  tried  it, 
he  "spoke  out  of  the  abundance  of  his  heart."  Expe- 
rience aided  his  eloquence,  and  added  strength  to  the 
conviction  which  it  wrought.  And  it  would  have  been 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  447 

listened  to  with  a  still  greater  intenseness  of  interest, 
had  his  own  trials,  mentioned  in  the  preceding  chap- 
ter, been  known.  The  application  of  the  subject  to  his 
auditory  must  be  left  for  imagination  to  supply;  for  it 
cannot  be  conveyed  on  paper. 

On  pronouncing  the  blessing,  he  requested  the  con- 
gregation to  resume  their  seats.  He  descended  from 
the  pulpit  and  took  his  station  in  front  of  it,  and  com- 
menced a  most  solemn  appeal  to  the  assembly.  He 
began  with  a  recognition  of  that  feeling  in  an  audi- 
tory which  leads  them  to  treat  a  minister's  exhorta- 
tions as  if  they  were  merely  a  discharge  of  profession- 
al duty,  by  one  placed  above  them  and  having  little 
sympathy  with  them.  ''  1  now  put  aside  the  minis- 
ter," said  he  ;  "  I  come  down  among  you ;  place  my- 
self on  a  visible  equality ;  I  address  you  as  a  fellow- 
man,  a  friend,  a  brother,  and  fellow-traveler  to  the  bar 
of  God  ;  as  one  equally  interested  with  yourselves  in 
the  truths  which  I  have  been  declaring."  He  then 
gave  vent  to  the  struggling  emotions  of  his  heart  in 
a  strain  of  affectionate  entreaty,  expressing  the  most 
anxious  desires  for  their  salvation.  In  conclusion,  he 
referred  them  to  the  common  practice,  when  men 
have  any  great  object  to  accomplish,  of  assembling  to- 
gether and  adopting  resolutions  expressive  of  their 
convictions  and  purposes  ;  and  he  wished  his  hearers 
to  follow  him  in  a  series  vvhich  he  was  about  to  pro- 
pose ;  and  to  adopt  them,  not  by  any  visible  act  or  ex- 
pression, but  mentally,  if  they  thought  them  of  suffi- 
cient importance,  and  could  do  it  sincerely.  One 
resolution  expressed  a  conviction  of  the  truth  of  the 
Bible;  another,  of  criminal  indifference  to  its  momen- 
tous disclosures ;   another   acknowledged  the  claims 


448  MEMOIR    OF 

of  Jehovah ;  another,  the  paramount  importance  of 
attention  to  the  concerns  of  the  soul ;  and  another, 
the  purpose  to  seek  its  salvation  without  delay. 
Though  his  withered  arm  hung  helpless  by  his  side, 
yet  he  seemed  "  instinct  with  life  j"  and  every  suc- 
cessive resolution  was  rendered  emphatic  by  a  gesture 
of  the  left. 

In  all  his  public  ministrations  during  this  period, 
when  his  body  Avas  sinking  towards  the  grave,  there 
was  a  singular  adaptedness  of  truthto  existing  circum- 
stances. The  subjects  upon  which  he  expatiated  were 
in  unison  with  his  condition  as  a  servant  of  God  ri- 
pening fast  for  heaven.  There  was  much  of  the  nature 
of  testimony  for  God.  He  omitted  no  opportunity, 
public  or  private,  to  maintain  the  honor  and  perfec- 
tions of  Him  Avhose  ambassador  he  was.  He  could 
scarcely  utter  a  word  without  rendering  it  obvious  to 
all  who  heard  him,  that  God  was  higher  in  his  esteem 
than  any,  than  all  created  beings.  One  illustration  ot 
this  statement  was  afforded  by  a  sermon  which  he 
preached  as  late  as  the  last  Sabbath  in  April,  from  2 
Samuel,  18  :  3 — "  Thou  art  icorth  ten  thousand  of 
7{5."  Parts  of  this  sermon  are  reported  from  recollec- 
tion by  his  eldest  daughter,  Avho  has  been  the  most 
successful — where  all  fail — in  retaining  his  characte- 
ristic expressions. 

The  text,  which  was  addressed  to  David  by  his  sub- 
jects, Dr.  Payson  applied  to  Jehovah,  and  illustrated 
its  truth  in  this  application  by  a  variety  of  methods, 
showing  that  God  is  Avorth  ten  thousand  times  ten 
thousand  of  human  beings  ;  yea,  worth  more  than  all 
the  creatures  that  ever  have  been,  and  all  that  ever 
will  be  created : 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  449 

"  Suppose  you  take  the  capacity  for  happiness, 
which  has  been  said  by  philosophers  to  be  the  only 
true  standard  of  perfection  : — if  the  happiness  which 
God  enjoys  were  divided  into  portions,  each  of  which 
would  be  sufficient  to  fill  an  archangel  to  overflowing, 
there  would  be  an  infinite  number  of  those  portions. 
God's  happiness  is  not  merely  a  fountain,  but  an  ocean 
without  bottom  or  shore.  And  this  should  be  a  never- 
failing  source  of  consolation  to  ihe  Christian,  when 
he  reflects  on  ail  the  misery  in  the  v/orld,  that  still 
happiness  predominates  ;  for  God  is  infinitely — infi- 
nitely happy. 

"  The  man  who  should  go  round  the  universe — sup- 
pose, if  you  will,  that  each  of  the  numerous  millions 
of  stars  known  to  astronomers  is  the  centre  of  a  sys- 
tem, and  that  each  of  these  innumerable  worlds  is  as 
populous  as  our  own  ;  yet  the  man  who  should,  at  one 
fell  stroke,  fill  all  these  countless  myriads  of  beings  to 
the  very  brim  with  wretchedness,  would  do  infinitely 
less  mischief  than  he  who  should,  if  that  were  possi- 
ble, destroy  the  happiness  of  Jehovah.  In  the  first 
instance,  it  would  be  but  poisoning  the  streams;  in 
the  latter,  the  fountain  itself  would  be  turned  into  bit- 
terness.       *        *         * 

"  Thus  we  have  proved  that  God  is  worth  infinitely 
more  than  all  his  creatures.  But,  instead  of  acknow- 
ledging and  feeling  this,  men  practically  exalt  them- 
selves ten  thousand  times  above  God.  They  think  ten 
thousand  times  as  much  of  themselves  as  of  God  ;  an 
injury  done  to  themselves  affects  them  ten  thousand 
times  as  much  as  one  done  to  God ;  and  Jehovah  sees 
himself  cast  down — down — down  from  his  throne,  to 
make  room  for  little  insignificant  worms  of  the  dust. 

M.  P.  3S+ 


t50  MEMOIR    OF 

And  what  can  be  worse  than  this !  Men  talk  about 
degrees  of  wickedness,  because  some  have  brolien  the 
laws  of  their  country  and  others  have  not;  but  this 
undervaluing  and  degrading  their  Maker  is  what  all 
have  done  ,  and  it  is  not  possible  to  go  farther  in 
wickedness.  Yes ;  this  is  what  I  have  done — and  I 
desire  to  make  the  confession  with  shame.  I  have 
done  this ;  and  you  have  done  this,  my  hearers.  In 
the  presence  of  this  much  insulted  God,  I  must  charge 
it  upon  you.  And  I  tell  you,  my  hearers,  if  you  do 
not  repent  of  this  conduct  God  will  be  obliged  to  put 
you  down — down — down,  as  low  as  you  have  degrad- 
ed him.  If  he  should  not  do  this  ;  if,  out  of  false  pity 
to  one  individual,  he  should  pardon  you  without  re- 
pentance ;  that  instant  all  the  songs  of  heaven  would 
stop,  and  all  the  happiness  of  the  universe  would  be 
dried  up.  Heaven,  the  habitation  of  God's  glory, 
where  myriads  of  celestial  intelligences  are  contem- 
plating his  infinite  perfections,  would  become,  from  a 
place  of  perfect  and  unmingled  happiness,  a  scene  of 
unutterable,  inconceivable  misery.  'Jehovah  is  no 
longer  worthy  to  be  trusted  !  Jehovah  is  no  longer 
worthy  to  be  trusted !'  would  be  the  universal  and 
pathetic  exclamation.  '  We  thought  there  was  one 
Being,  and  only  one,  on  whom  Ave  might  depend  ;  but 
sven  He  has  failed  ;  and  where  now  shall  we  look  for 
perfection !'  But,  blessed  be  God !  these  dreadful 
imaginings  can  never  be  realized,  for  Jehovah  will 
never  changed 

In  this  connection  we  shall  introduce  a  paragraph 
communicated  by  a  ministering  brother,  who  occupied 
his  pulpit  on  the  day  in  which  the  interview  men- 
tioned took  place ; 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  451 

"As  an  instance  of  his  strong  fancy,  and  of  the 
Uses  to  which  he  applied  it,  I  will  mention,  that  on 
the  last  Sabbath  in  which,  with  great  difficulty,  he 
entered  the  house  of  God,  he  said  to  me — 'I  find  in 
my  illness  that  the  power  of  imagination  is  unweak- 
ened,  and  that  it  is  very  easy  for  me  to  wander  into 
the  regions  of  fancy.  On  the  subject  of  the  wisdom 
of  God  in  the  direction  of  mysterious  events,  and  our 
duty  of  submission  and  faith,  it  has  occurred  to  me 
recently,  that  our  conceptions  might  be  assisted  by 
imagining  God  to  take  a  human  form,  answering — if 
it  were  possible — to  his  infinite  nature.  What  would 
be  its  dimensions?  The  angel  in  the  book  of  Revela- 
tion is  represented  as  standing  with  one  foot  on  the 
sea  and  the  other  on  the  land,  and  lifting  up  his  hand 
to  heaven.  But  were  God  in  a  form  such  as  I  have 
supposed,  one  foot  would  be  on  the  remotest  star  in 
one  direction  of  infinite  space,  and  the  other  foot  on 
the  remotest  star  in  the  opposite  direction  of  the  un- 
bounded expanse  : — and  should  we  propose  to  climb 
from  his  feet  to  the  glories  of  his  face — if  we  had  the 
speed  of  light,  and  had  been  traveling  from  the  crea- 
tion of  the  world,  we  should  have  made  little  progress 
in  our  journey.  And  shall  we  then  presumptuously 
judge  of  the  ways  of  this  God,  and  imagine  that  we 
could  manage  earthly  things  more  wisely  than  he  ? 
Shall  we  have  any  doubts  as  to  his  unfailmg  wisdom, 
and  perfect  rectitude,  and  infinite  goodness  V  I  have 
not  been  able  to  give  you  his  words,  but  I  have  given 
you  his  thoughts." 

Of  the  penetrating  and  all-absorbing  effect  of  his 
last  public  ministrations,  particularly  at  the  commu- 
nion table,  some  feeble  conception  may  be   formed 


452  MEMOIR    OF 

from  an  extract  furnished  by  a  gentleman,  who,  fur 
twelve  years,  had  been  only  an  occasional  attendant 
on  his  ministry.  The  first  paragraph  has  no  special 
reference  to  this  period,  but  may  properly  be  retained 
for  the  value  of  its  testimony  : 

"At  the  sacramental  table  especially  did  his  mind 
appear  to  be  absorbed  in  the  contemplation  of  things 
unseen  and  eternal.  To  a  candid  observer  it  was 
manifest,  at  such  seasons,  that  his  '  fellowship  was 
with  the  Father,  and  with  his  Son  Jesus  Christ.'  1 
doubt  not  that  I  express  the  feelings  of  each  membei 
of  his  church,  when  I  say  that  often,  on  these  occa- 
sions, he  seemed  to  soar  to  the  third  heaven,  and  by 
those  fervent  and  elevated  effusions  of  thought  with 
which  he  always  accompanied  his  administration  ol 
the  ordinance,  he  literally  carried  the  minds  if  not  the 
hearts  of  his  hearers  with  him.  His  influence  in  this  re- 
spect is  associated  with  my  earliest  recollections  of  Dr 
Payson.  In  one  particular  instance,  which  occurred 
during  my  boyhood,  such  was  the  absorbing  influence 
of  his  eloquence  on  my  own  mind ;  arising,  doubtless, 
more  from  the  attraction  of  his  fervent  zeal,  and  that 
creative  fancy  for  vv'hich  he  was  so  remarkably  dis- 
tinguished, than  from  any  special  regard  on  my  own 
part,  to  the  truths  he  uttered  ;  that  from  the  com- 
mencement of  the  j)ublic  services  of  the  afternoon  to 
the  close  of  the  sacramental  season  which  succeeded 
them,  it  seemed  like  a  pleasing  reverie;  and  had  all 
the  efiect  of  an  ocular  survey  of  every  scene  connect- 
ed wiih  the  humiliation  and  exaltation  of  the  Savior. 
So  strong  was  the  mental  impression  received,  that  I 
can  still  distinctly  recollect  not  only  his  text  on  that 
occasion — Rev.  4  :  3,  latter  clause — but  also  the  hymn 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  453 

with  which  the  public  services  were  introduced — H. 
25,  B.  1,  Watts.  He  seemed  to  have  taken  his  flight 
from  one  of  the  most  elevated  heights  of  meditation, 
and  to  soar  in  a  climax  of  devotion  and  sublimity  of 
thought,  until  faith  changed  the  heavenly  vision  into  a 
reality,  and  spread  all  the  glories  of  redemption  around 
the  consecrated  symbols  of  Christ's  death. 

"I  had  the  solemn  pleasure,  too,  of  being  present  at 
one  of  his  last  communion  seasons  with  the  church  on 
earth.  It  was  an  affecting,  a  soul-cheering  scene.  Its 
interest  was  greatly  enhanced  by  the  nearness  in 
which  he  seemed  to  stand  to  the  communion  of  the 
cL'urch  triumphant.  His  body  was  so  emaciated  with 
long  and  acute  suffering,  that  it  was  scarcely  able  to 
sustain  the  effort  once  more  imposed  upon  it ;  but  his 
soul,  raised  above  its  perishing  influence,  and  filled 
with  a  joyful  tranquillity,  seemed  entirely  regardless 
of  the  weakness  of  its  mortal  tenement.  His  right 
hand  and  arm  were  so  palsied  by  disease  as  to  be  quite 
useless,  except  that  in  the  act  of  breaking  the  bread, 
when  he  could  not  well  dispense  with  it,  he  placed  it 
on  the  table  with  the  other  hand,  just  as  you  raise  any 
lifeless  weight,  until  it  had  performed  the  service  re- 
quired of  it.  It  seemed  as  if  he  Vv'as  unwilling  that 
even  the  Vv^ithered  hand  should  be  found  unemployed 
in  the  holy  work.  Truly,  thought  I,  there  must  be  a 
blessed  reality  in  that  religion  which  can  thus  make 
the  soul  tranquil  and  happy  in  the  constant  and  rapid 
advances  of  decay  and  death  ! 

'•  I  have  never  known  Dr.  Payson  when  he  seemed 
more  abstracted  from  earth  than  on  this  occasion.  It 
Avas,  as  he  supposed,  and  as  his  church  feared,  their 
final  interview  at  that  table.     In  all  the  glowing  fer- 


454  MEMOIR  or 

voY  of  devotion,  assisted  by  his  ever-fertile  imagina- 
tion, he  contemplated  the  Savior  as  visibly  present  in 
the  midst  of  them  ;  and  with  his  usual  eloquence  and 
closeness  of  appeal  he  seemed  to  make  each  commu- 
nicant feel  that  what  he  had  imagined  Avas  a  reality. 
There  was  a  breathless  silence  ;  and  the  solemnity  ot 
the  scene  could  hardly  have  been  surpassed,  if,  as  he 
expressed  it,  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  were  seen  sitting 
before  them,  or  addressing  to  each  individual  member 
the  momentous  inquiry,  '  Lovest  thou  me  V  I  can  say 
for  one,  that  the  terrors  of  hypocrisy  never  swelled  so 
fearful,  and  the  realities  of  the  judgment-seat  never 
seemed  nearer,  than  at  that  solemn  hour.  And  I  trust 
many  were  then  enabled  from  the  heart  to  pray,  with 
the  Psalmist,  Search  me,  O  God,  &c. 

"From  the  occasional  opportunities  I  have  enjoyed 
of  attending  on  Dr.  Payson's  administration  of  that 
ordinance,  I  can  have  no  doubt  that  they  were  to  him 
foretastes  of  that  supper  of  the  Lamb  on  whose  more 
blessed  celebration  he  so  triumphantly  entered.  And 
it  is  an  interesting,  a  momentous  question — 

"Shall  we,  Avho  sat  with  him  below, 
"  Conijriune  with  him  above  ?" 

On  the  first  of  July  he  attended  public  worship, 
and,  after  a  sermon  from  his  assistant,  he  rose  and  ad- 
dressed his  people  thus  : 

"  Ever  since  I  became  a  minister,  it  has  been  my 
earnest  wish  that  I  might  die  of  some  disease  which 
would  allow  me  to  preach  a  farewell  sermon  to  my 
people  ;  but  as  it  is  not  probable  that  I  shall  ever  be 
able  to  do  this,  I  will  attempt  to  say  a  feAV  words 
now  : — it  may  be  the  last  time  that  I  shall  ever  ad- 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  455 

dfess  you.  This  is  not  merely  a  presentiment.  It  is 
an  opinion  founded  on  facts,  and  maintained  by  phy- 
sicians acquainted  with  my  case,  that  I  shall  never  be- 
hold another  spring. 

''  And  now,  standing  on  the  borders  of  the  eternal 
world,  I  look  back  on  my  past  ministry,  and  on  the 
manner  in  which  I  have  performed  its  duties  ;  and,  O 
my  hearers,  if  you  have  not  performed  your  duties  bet- 
ter than  I  have  mine,  wo  !  wo !  be  to  you — unless  you 
have  an  Advocate  and  Intercessor  in  heaven.  We  have 
lived  together  twenty  years,  and  have  spent  more  than 
a  thousand  Sabbaths  together,  and  I  have  given  you  at 
least  two  thousand  warnings.  I  am  now  going  to  ren- 
der an  account  how  they  were  given,  and  you,  my 
hearers,  will  soon  have  to  render  an  account  how  they 
were  received.  Owe  more  warning  I  will  give  you. 
Once  more  your  shepherd,  who  will  be  yours  no  long- 
er, entreats  you  to  flee  from  the  wrath  to  come.  Oh, 
let  me  have  the  happiness  of  seeing  my  dear  people  at- 
tending to  their  eternal  interests,  that  I  may  not  have 
reason  to  say,  I  have  labored  in  vam,  I  have  spent  my 
strength  for  nought." 

At  the  communion  table  the  same  day  he  said — 
"Christians  seem  to  expect  that  their  views  of 
Christ  and  love  to  him  will  increase  without  their 
using  the  proper  means.  They  should  select  some 
scene  in  his  life,  and  meditate  long  upon  it,  and  strive 
lo  bring  the  circumstances  before  their  minds,  and  im 
agine  how  he  thought  and  felt  at  the  time.  At  first, 
all  Avill  appear  confused  and  indistinct ;  but  let  them 
continue  to  look  steadily,  and  the  mists  will  disap- 
pear, and  their  hearts  Avill  begin  to  burn  with  love 
to  their  Savior.     At  least  one  scene  in  Christ's  life 


456  MEMOIR   OP 

should  be  thus  reviewed  every  day,  if  the  Christian 
hopes  to  find  his  love  to  his  Redeemer  increase." 

His  public  labors  were  now  nearly  over  ;  but  he  was 
daily  and  hourly  uttering  something  to  rouse  the  care- 
less, or  for  the  instruction,  edification,  and  comfort  of 
God's  children. 

To  his  daughter,  Avho  expressed  a  wish  that  labor 
as  certainly  ensured  success  in  spiritual  as  in  temporal 
affairs,  he  said—"  It  does  ;  it  is  just  as  certain  that 
prayers  for  spiritual  blessings  will  be  answered  when- 
ever God  sees  best,  as  that  the  husbandman,  who  sows 
his  seed  with  proper  precaution,  will  reap.  The  only 
reason  that  our  endeavors  to  obtain  spiritual  blessings 
are  not  oftener  attended  with  success,  is,  they  are  not 
made  in  earnest.  Never  omit  prayer,  or  any  devotion- 
al exercise,  when  the  stated  season  for  it  arrives,  be- 
cause you  feel  indisposed  to  the  duty." 

July  12,  13,  1827.  On  both  these  days  Dr.  Payson 
seemed  a  little  revived.  He  had  tried  sailing  around 
the  harbor,  and  found  it  beneficial.  On  repeating  the 
experiment,  however,  he  discovered  that  though  these 
water  excursions  were  of  service  to  his  lungs,  they  in- 
creased the  paralytic  affection — if  such  it  was — in  his 
arm,  and  they  were  relinquished. 

July  22.  Sabbath.  To  his  daughter  he  said,  "  There 
is  nothing  in  which  young  converts  are  more  prone  to 
err,  than  in  laying  too  much  stress  upon  their  feelings. 
If  ihey  have  a  comfortable  half  hour  in  the  morning  it 
atones  for  a  multitude  of  sins  in  the  course  of  the  day. 
Christ  says,  'If  ye  love  me,  keep  my  commandments.' 
It  would  be  well  for  us  to  pay  more  attention  to  our 
conduct,  and  prove  the  depth  of  our  feeling  by  our 
obedience."  He  also  advised  her  to  observe  some  plan 


EDWARD    PAYSOX-  457 

with  reo-ard  to  reading  on  the  Sabbath.  In  the  morn- 
ing he  recommended  reading  the  Scriptures  exclusive- 
ly, and  afterwards  works  intended  to  convey  informa- 
tion  respecting  religious  subjects. 

July  29.  He  remarked  to  some  new  converts  who 
called,  that  the  most  important  direction  he  could  give 
them  was,  to  spend  much  time. in  retired  converse  with 
the  Scriptures,  and  with  God.  ''  if  you  wished  to 
cherish  the  remembrance  of  an  absent  friend,  you 
would  read  over  his  letters  daily,  meditate  on  his  acts 
of  kindness  to  you,  and  look  at  any  tokens  of  affection 
which  he  might  have  left  you. 

"  We  are  accustomed  to  suppose  that  God's  feel- 
ings towards  us  vary  according  to  our  own ;  that  when 
we  are  in  a  lively  spiritual  frame  of  mind  he  regards 
us  with  more  complacency  than  at  other  times.  This 
is  not  the  case.  The  feelings  with  which  God  regards* 
us  do  not  fluctuate  like  ours." 

August  5.  Sabbath.  This  day  he  entered  the  meet- 
ing-house for  the  last  time ;  and  this  month  completes 
twenty  years  since  he  entered  it  the  first  time  as  a 
preacher — then  a  trembling  youth,  now  the  spiritual 
father  of  many  hundreds  ;  then  just  girded  for  the  Avar- 
fare,  now  the  veteran  who  had  "  fought  the  good  fight," 
and  was  just  going  to  resign  his  commission  and  re- 
ceive a  crown  of  unfading  glory.  He  made  a  great 
effort  to  go  out,  as  there  were  twenty-one  persons  to 
be  admitted  to  the  church.  He  was  supported  into  the 
house  by  his  senior  deacons ;  and  although  he  merely 
read  the  covenant  and  remained  during  the  adminis- 
tration of  the  sacrament,  he  was  exceedingly  overcome. 
Most  of  the  persons  present  were  much  affected,  and 
M.  p.  39 


45S  MEMOIR   OP 

after  the  services  many  crowded  around  him,  to  take 
his  hand  for  the  last  time. 

August  8.  He  had  a  violent  nervous  head-ache  ;  and 
was  much  interrupted  in  speaking  by  a  difficulty  of 
breathing;  but  said  in  a  cheerful  voice  to  some  of  his 
church  who  were  in — "  I  want  you  always  to  believe 
that  God  is  faithful.  However  dark  and  mysterious 
any  of  his  dispensations  may  appear,  still  confide  in 
him.  He  can  make  you  happy  when  every  thing  else 
is  taken  from  you." 

August  13.  He  received  from  a  society  of  young 
men  in  his  congregation,  who  were  associated  for  reli- 
gious improvement,  a  letter,  in  which  they  generously 
offered  to  give  his  son  a  liberal  education.  The  follow- 
ing is  his  answer: 

"  To  the  Society  for  Religious  Improvement. 
**  Beloved  Bi^ethren, 

'•  No  act  of  kindness  which  it  was  in  the  power  of 
man  to  show  could  have  been  more  soothing  to  my 
anxieties  as  a  dying  parent,  or  more  grateful  to  a  dy- 
ing minister,  than  your  unexpected  and  most  generous 
offer  to  furnish  the  means  of  a  liberal  education  to  my 
oldest  son. 

"  Most  fervently  do  I  thank  you  for  making  this 
offer,  and  the  Author  of  all  good  for  inducing  you  to 
do  it.  To  see  him  thus  already  beginning  to  take  care 
of  a  family  which  I  must  soon  leave,  is  a  great  en- 
couragement 10  my  faith  that  he  will  continue  to  take 
care  of  them  after  I  am  gone. 

"If  it  is  any  satisfaction  to  you  to  know  that  you 
have  assisted  to  smooth  your  pastor's  dying  pillow, 
and  shed  light  on  his  last  hours,  you  may  feel  that  sa- 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  459 

tisfaction  in  a  very  liigli  degree.  With  most  earnest 
prayers  that  God  Vv^ould  reward  you  abundantly  for 
this  kind  offer,  I  have  concluded  to  accept  it,  provided 
that  my  son,  Vv^hen  he  shall  have  attained  the  age  of 
sixteen,  shall  be  found  to  possess  such  a  character  a;-; 
will  justify  a  hope  that  he  will  make  a  good  use  of  the 
advantages  with  which  you  generously  furnish  him. 
And  now,  brethren,  farewell." 

During  this  month  his  "wreck  of  being"  Avas  fur- 
ther shattered  by  a  spasmodic  cough,  which  at  times 
threatened  absolute  strangulation. 

Sept.  4.  He  said  to  his  wife  and  daughter — "  I  do 
not  think  you  are  sufficiently  thankful  for  my  conso- 
lations, or  realize  how  wonderful  it  is  that  I  am  thus 
supported.  Owing  to  my  natural  activity,  and  un- 
willingness to  be  dependent  on  others  for  the  supply 
of  my  wants,  these  trials  are  exactly  those  which  are 
most  calculated  to  make  me  miserable.  But  God  can 
sweeten  the  bitterest  cupj' 

He  afterwards  said,  with  emotions  which  would 
hardly  allow  him  to  speak, — "  Oh,  my  daughter,  how 
you  will  regret,  when  you  come  to  see  how  good  God 
is,  that  you  did  not  serve  him  better.  Oh  !  he  is  so 
good,  so  good." 

Sept.  9.  During  the  preceding  week  he  had  rode 
out  several  times,  being  carried  down  stairs  and  lift- 
ed into  the  chaise.  For  a  ie\Y  days  he  thought  him- 
self better;  but  these  favorable  appearances  were  of 
short  duration.  He  remarked  that  sometimes,  in  or- 
der to  try  his  people's  faith,  God  gives  them  a  pros- 
pect that  an  affliction  is  about  to  be  removed,  and 
then  permits  it  to  return  again.  He  compared  his 
present  case  to  that  of  a  man,  who,  after  having  been 


460  MEMOIR    OF 

a  long  time  confined  in  prison,  finds  his  door  open  one 
morning;  but,  on  attempting  to  leave  it,  the  door  is 
suddenly  closed  with  such  violence  as  to  throw  him 
prostrate  on  the  floor. 

He  was  asked  on  this  day  by  some  of  his  friends, 
if  he  could  see  any  particular  reason  for  this  dispen- 
sation. "  No,"  replied  he;  "but  lam  as  well  satis- 
fied as  if  I  could  see  ten  thousand.  God's  will  is  the 
very  perfection  of  all  reason." 

In  answer  to  the  question  by  a  lady  from  B.  Are  you 
better  than  you  were?  he  replied,  "Not  in  body,  but 
in  mind.  If  my  happiness  continues  to  increase,  I 
cannot  support  it  much  longer."  On  being  asked. 
Are  your  views  of  heaven  clearer  and  brighter  than 
ever  before  ?  he  said — "Why,  for  a  few  moments,  I 
may  have  had  as  bright ;  but  formerly  my  joys  were 
tumultuous ;  now  all  is  calm  and  peaceful."  He  was 
asked,  "  In  your  anticipations  of  heaven,  do  you  think 
of  meeting  departed  friends  ?"  After  a  moment's  re- 
flection he  said,  with  a  most  expressive  countenance, 
"  If  I  meet  Christ,  'tis  no  matter  whether  I  see  others 
or  not — though  I  shall  want  some  to  help  me  praise 
him."  He  doubtless  had  an  opinion  on  this  subject; 
but  he  remembered  Christ's  answer  to  the  question, 
"  Are  there  few  that  be  saved  ?" 

"  God  deals  strangely  with  his  creatures  to  promote 
iheir  happiness.  Who  would  have  thought  that  I 
must  be  reduced  to  this  state,  helpless  and  crippled, 
to  experience  the  highest  enjoyment !" 

"  You  ought  to  feel  happy,  all  ought  to  feel  happy 
who  come  here,  for  they  are  within  a  few  steps  of 
heaven."  During  the  course  of  this  conversation  he 
repeated  this  verse,  "'  Thy  sun  shall  no  more  go  down, 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  461 

neither  shall  thy  moon  withdraw  itself;  for  the  Lord 
shall  be  thine  eA'erlasting  light,  and  the  days  of  thy 
mourning  shall  be  ended."  Turning  to  a  young  lady 
present,  he  said,  "  Do  you  not  think  this  is  worth  tra- 
veling over  many  high  hills  and  difficult  places  to  ob- 
tain ?"  "  Give  my  love  to  my  friends  in  Boston;  tell 
them  all  I  ever  said  in  praise  of  God  or  religion  falls 
infinitely  belovvr  the  truth." 

"  Dr.  Clarke  in  his  travels,  speaking  of  the  compa- 
nies that  Avere  traveling  from  the  East  to  Jerusalem, 
represents  the  procession  as  being  very  long ;  and,  af- 
ter climbing  over  the  extended  and  heavy  ranges  of 
hills  that  bounded  the  way,  some  of  the  foremost  at 
length  reached  the  top  of  the  last  hill,  and,  stretching 
up  their  hands  in  gestures  of  joy,  cried  out,  '  The 
Holy  City  !  the  Holy  City !' — and  fell  down  and  wor- 
shiped ;  while  those  who  were  behind  pressed  for- 
ward to  see.  So  the  dying  Christian,  when  he  gets 
on  the  last  summit  of  life,  and  stretches  his  vision  to 
catch  a  glimpse  of  the  heavenly  city,  may  cry  out  of 
its  glories,  and  incite  those  who  are  behind  to  press 
forward  to  the  sight." 

To  a  clergyman — "  Oh,  if  ministers  only  saw  the 
inconcei\^able  glory  that  is  before  them,  and  the  pre- 
ciousness  of  Christ,  they  would  not  be  able  to  refrain 
from  going  about  leaping  and  clapping  their  hands  for 
joy,  and  exclaiming,  I'm  a  minister  of  Christ !  I'm  a 
minist^^r  of  Christ !" 

"  When  I  read  Bunyan's  description  of  the  land  of 
Beulah,  where  the  sun  shines  and  the  birds  sing  day 
and  night,  I  used  to  doubt  whether  there  was  such  a 
place ;  but  now  my  own  experience  has  convinced  me 

M.  p.  39* 


462  MEMOIR    OF 

of  it,  and  it  infinitely  transcends  all  my  previous  con- 
ceptions." 

"  I  think  the  happiness  I  enjoy  is  similar  to  that  en- 
joyed by  glorified  spirits  before  the  resurrection." 

Sept.  16.  Sabbath.  He  awaked  exclaiming,  "  I  am 
going  to  mount  Zion,  to  the  city  of  the  living  God,  to 
the  heavenly  Jerusalem,  to  an  innumerable  company 
of  angels,  to  the  general  assembly  and  church  of  the 
first-born,  and  to  God  the  Judge  of  all." 

During  the  night  of  September  17th  he  was  seized 
with  spasms,  which  it  seemed  must  separate  soul  and 
body.  It  w-as  [not  thought  by  his  physician  that  he 
could  survive  a  second  attack  ;  but  his  hold  on  life  re- 
mained, though  the  spasms  continued  to  return  every 
succeeding  night  with  more  or  less  violence.  Every 
new  attack  seemed,  however,  to  strengthen  the  ener- 
gies of  his  mind.  No  better  evidence  of  this  can  be 
desired,  than  is  exhibited  in  a  letter  which  he  dictated 
to  his  sister : 

"  September  19,  1827. 
"Dear  Sister, 

"Were  I  to  adopt  the  figurative  language  of  Bun- 
yan,  I  might  date  this  letter  from  the  land  of  Beulah, 
of  which  I  have  been  for  some  weeks  a  happy  inhabi- 
tant. The  celestial  city  is  full  in  my  view.  Its  glories 
beam  upon  me,  its  breezes  fan  me,  its  odors  are  wafted 
to  me,  its  sounds  strike  upon  my  ears,  and  its  spirit 
is  breathed  into  my  heart.  Nothing  separates  me  from 
it  but  the  river  of  death,  which  now  appears  but  as  an 
insignificant  rill,  that  may  be  crossed  at  a  single  step, 
whenever  God  shall  give  permission.  The  Sun  of 
Righteousness  has  been  gradually  drawing  nearer  and 
nearer,  appearing  larger  and  brighter  as  he  approached, 


EDWARD    PAY30N.  463 

and  now  he  fills  the  whole  hemisphere  ;  pouring  forth 
a  flood  of  glory,  in  which  I  seem  to  float  like  an  insect 
in  the  beams  of  the  sun ;  exulting,  yet  almost  trem- 
bling while  I  gaze  on  this  excessive  brightness,  and 
wondering,  with  unutterable  wonder,  why  God  should 
deign  thus  to  shine  upon  a  sinful  worm.  A  single 
heart  and  a  single  tongue  seem  altogether  inadequate 
to  my  wants  :  I  want  a  whole  heart  for  every  separate 
emotion,  and  a  whole  tongue  to  express  that  emotion. 

"  But  why  do  I  speak  thus  of  myself  and  my  feel- 
ings ?  why  not  speak  only  of  our  God  and  Redeemer? 
It  is  because  I  know  not  what  to  say.  When  I  would 
speak  of  them  my  words  are  all  swallowed  up.  I  can 
only  tell  you  what  eflects  their  presence  produces, 
and  even  of  these  I  can  tell  you  but  very  little.  O,  my 
sister !  my  sister !  could  you  but  know  what  awaits 
the  Christian ;  could  you  know  only  so  much  as  I 
know,  you  could  not  refrain  from  rejoicing,  and  even 
leaping  for  joy.  Labors,  trials,  troubles  would  be  no- 
thing :  you  would  rejoice  in  afflictions  and  glory  in 
tribulations ;  and,  like  Paul  and  Silas,  sing  God's 
praises  in  the  darkest  night  and  in  the  deepest  dun- 
geon. You  have  known  a  little  of  my  trials  and  con- 
flicts, and  know  that  they  have  been  neither  few  nor 
small ;  and  I  hope  this  glorious  termination  of  them  will 
serve  to  strengthen  your  faith  and  elevate  your  hope. 

"  And  now,  my  dear,  dear  sister,  farewell.  Hold  oa 
your  Christian  course  but  a  few  days  longer,  and  yoa 
will  meet  in  heaven, 

"  Your  happy  and  affectionate  brother, 

"  Edward  Payson." 

The  next  day  he  sent  for  the  editor  of  a  religious 


464  MEMOIR    OP 

journal  and  expressed  his  wishes  in  regard  to  the  dis- 
position which  should  be  made  of  a  certain  class  of 
effusions  which  his  exit  would  probably  call  forth  ; 
adding,  '"  I  make  this  request  about  as  much  for  your 
sake  as  my  own."  He  had  then  survived  three  or  four 
of  these  dreadful  nocturnal  attacks,  but  observed  that 
he  could  not  calculate  upon  surviving  another.  In 
answer  to  the  question,  why  he  was  thus  affected  in 
the  night  rather  than  the  day — he  proceeded  Avith  as 
much  readiness  as  if  it  had  been  the  study  of  his  life, 
to  give  a  philosophical  a  •■  ount  of  the  change  which 
takes  place  in  the  body,  in  its  transit  from  a  state  of 
wakefulness  to  that  of  sleep.  "  Then,"  said  he,  '-that 
is  as  soon  as  the  will  resigns  its  power  over  the  mus- 
cles and  organs  of  the  body — then  my  diseases  com- 
mence their  gambols." 

To  his  daughter,  who  was  obliged  to  defer  a  con- 
templated undertaking  by  an  approaching  storm,  he 
turned  and  said  with  a  smile — '•  I  suppose  you  feel 
as  if  the  equinox  ought  to  be  deferred  on  account  of 
your  school." 

Sept.  21.  '' O  what  a  blessed  thing  it  is  to  lose 
one's  will !  Since  I  have  lost  my  will  I  have  found 
happiness.  There  can  be  no  such  thing  as  disappoint- 
ment to  me.  for  I  have  no  desires  but  that  God's  will 
may  be  accomplished. 

"  I  have  been  all  my  life  like  a  child  whose  father 
wishes  to  fix  his  undivided  attention.  At  first,  the  child 
ru^s  about  the  room — but  his  father  ties  up  his  feet; 
he  then  plays  with  his  hands,  until  they  likewise  are 
tied.  Thus  he  continues  to  do,  till  he  is  completely 
tied  up ;  then,  when  he  can  do  nothing  else,  he  will 
attend  to  his  father.  Just  so  God  has  been  dealinsr  with 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  465 

rae,  to  induce  me  to  place  my  happiness  in  him  alone. 
But  I  blindly  continued  to  look  for  it  here ;  and  God 
has  kept  cutting  off  one  source  of  enjoyment  after  ano- 
ther, till  I  find  that  I  can  do  without  them  all,  and  yet 
enjoy  more  happiness  than  ever  in  my  life  before. 

"  It  sounds  so  flat,  when  people  tell  me  that  it  is 
just  for  God  to  afflict  me,  as  if  justice  did  not  require 
infinitely  more." 

He  was  asked,  "  Do  you  feel  reconciled  ?" — "  O  ! 
that  is  too  cold.  I  rejoice,  I  triumph  !  and  this  happi- 
ness will  endure  as  long  as  God  himself,  for  it  con- 
sists in  admiring  and  adoring  him." 

"  I  can  find  no  words  to  express  my  happiness.  I 
ieem  to  be  swimming  in  a  river  of  pleasure,  which  is 
carrying  me  on  to  the  great  fountain." 

Sabbath  morning,  Sept.  23d,  he  said, — "  Last  night 
I  had  a  full,  clear  view  of  Death  as  the  king  of  terrors  ; 
how  he  comes  and  crowds  the  poor  sinner  to  the  very 
verge  of  the  precipice  of  destruction,  and  then  pushes 
him  down  headlong  !  But  I  felt  that  I  had  nothing  to 
do  with  this  ;  and  I  loved  to  sit  like  an  infant  at  the 
feet  of  Christ,  who  saved  me  from  this  fate.  I  felt  that 
death  Avas  disarmed  of  all  its  terrors ;  all  he  could  do 
would  be  to  touch  me,  and  let  my  soul  loose  to  go  to 
my  Savior. 

"  Christians  are  like  passengers  setting  out  together 
in  a  ship  for  some  distant  country.  Very  frequently 
one  drops  overboard ;  but  his  companions  know  that 
he  has  only  gone  a  shorter  way  to  the  same  port ;  and 
that  when  they  arrive  there  they  shall  find  him  ;  so 
that  all  they  lose  is  his  company  during  the  rest  of 
the  voyage." 

''  I  long  to  measure  out  a  full  cup  of  happiness  to 


466  MEMOIR    OF 

every  body,  but  Christ  wisely  keeps  that  prerogative 
in  his  own  hands." 

"  It  seems  as  if  all  the  bottles  of  heaven  were  opened  ; 
and  all  its  fullness  and  happiness,  and,  I  trust,  no  small 
portion  of  its  benevolence,  is  come  down  into  my 
heart." 

"  I  am  more  and  more  convinced  that  the  happiness 
of  heaven  is  a  benevolent  happiness.  In  proportion  as 
my  joy  has  increased  Lhave  been  filled  with  intense 
love  to  all  creatures,  and  a  strong  desire  that  they 
might  partake  of  my  happiness." 

Sept.  26.  In  answer  to  some  complaints  of  one  ot 
the  family  he  said — '•  Perhaps  there  is  nothing  more 
trying  to  the  faith  and  patience  of  Christians,  or  v/hich 
appears  to  them  more  mysterious,  than  the  small  sup- 
plies of  grace  which  they  receive,  and  the  delays  Avhich 
they  meet  with  in  having  their  prayers  answered;  so 
that  they  are  sometimes  ready  to  say,  It  is  in  vain  to 
wait  upon  the  Lord  any  longer."  He  then  mentioned 
the  text,  "  '  Wherefore  gird  up  the  loins  of  your  minds, 
be  sober,  and  hope  to  the  end  for  the  grace  that  is  to 
be  brought  unto  you  at  the  revelation  of  Jesus  Christ.'' 
A  large  portion  of  the  grace  which  Christians  are  to 
receive  will  be  given  to  them  at  the  second  coming  of 
Christ,  or  immediately  after  death;  and  this  will  al- 
ways be  in  proportion  to  their  prayers  and  exertions 
here.  Christians  need  not,  therefore,  be  discouraged  at 
the  slow  progress  they  make,  and  the  little  success 
which  attends  their  efforts ;  for  they  may  be  assured 
that  every  exertion  is  noticed,  and  will  be  rewarded, 
by  their  heavenly  Father." 

To  a  young  convert  he  said — "  You  will  have  to  go 
through  many  conflicts  and  trials ;  you  must  be  put 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  467 

m  the  furnace,  and  tempted,  and  tried,  in  order  to  show 
you  what  is  in  your  heart.  Sometimes  it  will  seem  as 
if  Satan  had  you  in  his  power,  and  that  the  more  you 
struggle  and  pray  against  sin,  the  more  it  prevails 
against  you.  But  when  you  are  thus  tried  and  despond- 
ing, remember  me ;  I  have  gone  through  all  this,  and 
now  you  see  the  end." 

To  another — '*  You  recollect  the  story  of  David  res- 
cuing the  lamb  from  the  lion  and  the  bear.  David  loved 
the  lamb  before  he  rescued  it  from  danger ;  but  he  loved 
it  more  afterwards.  So  Christ  loves  all  his  creatures ; 
but  he  loves  them  more  after  he  has  taken  them  into 
liis  fold,  and  owned  them  as  the  purchase  of  his  pre- 
cious blood." 

•'  Christians  might  avoid  much  trouble  and  incon- 
venience, if  they  Vv'ould  only  believe  what  they  pro- 
fess— that  God  is  able  to  make  them  happy  without 
any  thing  else.  They  imagine  that  if  such  a  dear 
fiiend  were  to  die,  or  such  and  such  blessings  to  be 
removed,  they  should  be  miserable;  whereas  God  can 
make  them  a  thousand  times  happier  without  them. 
To  mention  my  own  case — God  has  been  depriving 
me  of  one  blessing  after  another :  but,  as  every  one 
was  removed,  he  has  come  in  and  filled  up  its  place ; 
and  now,  Avhen  I  am  a  cripple,  and  not  able  to  move, 
I  am  happier  than  ever  I  was  in  my  life  before,  or 
ever  expected  to  be ;  and  if  I  had  believed  this  twenty 
years  ago.  I  might  have  been  spared  much  anxiety." 

'•  If  God  had  told  me  some  time  ago  that  he  was 
about  to  make  me  as  happy  as  I  could  be  in  this 
world,  and  then  had  told  me  that  he  should  begin  by 
crippling  me  in  all  my  limbs,  and  removing  me  from 
all  my  usual  sources  of  enjoyment;  I  should  have 


46S  MEMOIR  or 

ihoughl  it  a  very  strange  mode  of  accomplishing  his 
purpose.  And  yet,  how  is  liis  wisdom  manifest  even 
in  this  !  for  if  you  should  see  a  man  shut  up  in  a  close 
room,  idolizing  a  set  of  lamps  and  rejoicing  in  their 
light,  and  you  wished  to  make  him  truly  happy,  you 
would  begin  by  blowing  out  all  his  lamps  ;  and  then 
throw  open  the  shutters  to  let  in  the  light  of  heaven." 

'*  Suppose  a  son  is  walking  with  his  father,  in  whose 
wisdom  he  places  the  most  entire  confidence.  He  fol- 
lows wherever  his  father  leads,  though  it  may  be 
through  thorns  and  briers,  cheerfully  and  contentedly. 
Another  son,  we  will  suppose,  distrusts  his  father's 
wisdom  and  love,  and,  when  the  path  is  rough  or  un- 
even, begins  to  murmur  and  repine,  wishing  that  he 
might  be  allowed  to  choose  his  OAvn  path ;  and  though 
he  is  obliged  to  folloAv,  it  is  with  great  reluctance  and 
discontent.  Now,  the  reason  that  Christians  in  gene- 
ral do  not  enjoy  more  of  God's  presence  is,  that  they 
are  not  willing  to  walk  in  his  path  when  it  crosses 
their  own  inclinations.  But  we  shall  never  be  happy 
until  we  acquiesce  with  perfect  cheerfulness  in  all  his 
decisions,  and  follow  wherever  he  leads,  without  a 
murmur." 

After  it  had  become  certain  that  he  would  never 
again  leave  his  chamber  till  he  was  carried  out,  yet, 
being  unceasingly  desirous  to  benefit  his  people,  he 
sent  a  request,  which  was  announced  from  the  pulpit, 
that  they  would  repair  to  his  chamber.  Once,  it  is 
believed,  they  came  indiscriminately ;  at  other  times 
in  specified  classes,  including  as  many  as  the  cham- 
ber could  contain.  When  he  had  addressed  to  them 
collectively  his  last  most  solemn  and  affectionate 
Gounsel.  till  compelled  to  desist  by  the  failure  of  his 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  469 

Strength,  he  took  them  individually  by  the  hand,  and, 
with  a  heavenly  smile,  bade  them  farewell  I 

To  the  members  of  his  congregation  he  spoke  near- 
ly as  follows : 

"  It  has  often  been  remarked  that  people  who  have 
been  into  the  other  world  cannot  come  back  to  tell  us 
what  they  have  seen ;  but  I  am  so  near  the  eternal 
world  that  I  can  see  almost  as  clearly  as  if  I  were 
there ;  and  I  see  enough  to  satisfy  myself  at  least  ot 
the  truth  of  the  doctrines  which  I  have  preached.  I  do 
not  know  that  I  should  feel  at  all  surer  had  I  been 
really  there. 

"  It  is  always  interesting  to  see  others  in  a  situation 
m  which  we  know  that  we  must  shortly  be  placed  our- 
selves ;  and  we  all  know  that  we  must  die.  And  to 
see  a  poor  creature  when,  after  an  alternation  of  hopes 
and  fears,  he  finds  that  his  disease  is  mortal,  and  death 
comes  to  tear  him  away  from  every  thing  he  loves, 
and  crowds,  and  crowds  him  to  the  very  verge  of  the 
precipice  of  destruction,  and  then  thrusts  him  down 
headlong  !  There  he  is,  cast  into  an  unknown  world  ; 
no  friend,  no  Savior  to  receive  him  ! 

"  O  how  different  is  this  from  the  stale  of  a  man 
who  is  prepared  to  die!  He  is  not  obliged  to  be 
crowded  reluctantly  along;  but  the  other  world  comes 
like  a  great  magnet  to  draw  him  away  from  this  ;  and 
he  knows  that  he  is  going  to  enjoy — and  not  only 
knows  but  begins  to  taste  it — perfect  happiness  ;  for 
ever  and  ever;  for  ever  and  ever!     ***** 

"  And  now  God  is  in  this  room ;  I  see  him !  and  O 
how  unspeakably  lovely  and  glorious  does  he  appear! 
worthy  of  ten  thousand  thousand  hearts,  if  we  had 
them.     He  is  here,  and  hears  me  pleading  with  the 

M.  p.  40 


470  MEIMOIR   OP 

creatures  that  he  has  made,  whom  he  preserves  and 
loads  with  blessings,  to  love  him.  And  O  how  terri- 
ble does  it  appear  to  me  to  sin  against  this  God ;  to 
set  up  our  wills  in  opposition  to  his ;  and  when  we 
awake  in  the  morning,  'instead  of  thinking,  '  What 
shall  I  do  to  please  my  God  to-day?'  to  inquire, 
'What  shall  I  do  to  please  myself  to-day  ?'  "  After  a 
short  pause  he  continued,  "It  makes  my  blood  run 
cold  to  think  how  inexpressibly  miserable  I  should  now 
be  without  religion.  To  lie  here  and  see  myself  tot- 
tering on  the  verge  of  destruction ! — O,  I  should  be 
distracted !  And  when  I  see  my  fellow-creatures  lia- 
ble every  moment  to  be  reduced  to  this  situation,  I  am 
in  an  agony  for  them  that  they  may  escape  their  dan- 
ger before  it  be  too  late.  When  people  repent  they 
begin  to  see  God's  infinite  perfections,  how  amiable 
and  glorious  he  is,  and  the  heart  relents  and  mourns 
that  it  has  treated  him  so  ungratefully. 

"  Suppose  we  should  hear  the  sound  of  a  man's  voice 
pleading  earnestly  with  some  one,  but  could  not  dis- 
tinguish the  words  ;  and  v/e  should  inquire,  '  What  is 
that  man  pleading  for  so  earnestly  V  '  O,  he  is  only 
pleading  Avith  a  fellow-creature  to  love  his  God,  his 
Savior,  his  Preserver  and  Benefactor.  He  is  only  plead- 
ing with  him  not  to  throw  away  his  immortal  soul,  not 
to  pull  down  everlasting  wretchedness  upon  his  own 
head.  He  is  only  persuading  him  to  avoid  eternal  mi- 
sery, and  to  accept  eternal  happiness.'  '  Is  it  possible,' 
we  should  exclaim,  '  that  any  persuasion  can  be  ne- 
cessary for  this?'  and  yet  it  is  necessary.  O  my  friends, 
do,  do  love  this  glorious  Being — do  seek  for  the  salva- 
tion of  your  immortal  souls.  Hear  the  voice  of  your 
dying  minister,  while  he  entreats  you  to  care  for  your 
souls." 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  471 

He  afterwards  said — "  I  am  always  sorry  -when  I 
say  any  thing  to  any  one  who  comes  in ;  it  seems  so 
inadequate  to  what  I  wish  to  express.  The  words  sink 
right  dov/n  under  the  weight  of  the  meaning  I  wish  to 
convey." 

On  another  occasion — "  I  find  no  satisfaction  in  look- 
ing at  any  thing  I  have  done ;  I  want  to  leave  all  this 
behind — it  is  nothing — and  fly  to  Christ  to  be  clothed 
in  his  righteousness." 

Again — ''  I  have  done  nothing  myself.  I  have  not 
fought,  but  Christ  has  fought  for  me ;  I  have  not  run, 
but  Christ  has  carried  me ;  I  have  not  worked,  but 
Christ  has  wrought  in  me — Christ  has  done  all." 

The  perfections  of  God  were  to  him  a  well-spring 
of  joy,  and  the  promises  were  "  breasts  of  consola- 
tion," whence  his  soul  drew  its  comfort  and  its  ali- 
ment. "  O  !"  exclaimed  he,  "  the  loving-kindness  of 
God — his  loving-kindness  !  This  afternoon,  while  I 
was  meditating  on  it,  the  Lord  seemed  to  pass  by,  and 
proclaim  himself  '  The  Lord,  the  Lord  God,  merciful 
and  gracious  !'  O  how  gracious  !  Try  to  conceive  of 
that,  his  loving-kindness^  as  if  it  were  not  enough  to 
say  kindness,  but — loving  kindness.  What  must  be  the 
loving  kindness  of  God,  who  is  himself  infinite  love!" 

"  It  seemed  this  afternoon  as  if  Christ  said  to  me, 
'  You  have  often  wondered  and  been  impatient  at  the 
way  by  which  I  have  led  you ;  but  what  do  you  think 
of  it  now?'  And  I  was  cut  to  the  heart  when  I  looked 
back  and  saw  the  wisdom  and  goodness  by  which  I 
had  been  guided,  that  I  could  ever  for  a  moment  dis- 
trust his  love." 

A  clergyman  from  another  state,  who  visited  Dr. 
Payson  about  this  stage  of  his  illness,  gave  the  follow- 


472  MEMOIR  or 

iug  account  of  the  interview  in  a  letter  to  a  friend : 
"  His  eye  beams  with  the  same  animation  as  ever. 
The  muscles  of  his  face  are  unaffected  by  that  which 
has  spread  all  but  death  throughout  the  other  parts  of 
his  system.  When  I  entered  the  chamber,  addressing 
me  with  a  smile,  he  said,  '  I  have  no  hand  to  welcome 
you  with,  but  I  am  glad  to  see  you.'  I  observed  to  him 
that  I  was  reluctant  to  lay  any  tax  upon  him  in  his 
present  weak  state,  but  had  felt  desirous  to  see  him  a 
moment.  He  replied  that  he  did  not  feel  parsimonious 
of  the  poor  remains  of  strength  he  had  left :  he  had  got 
so  near  through,  that  it  was  not  worth  "w^^jle  to  be  so- 
licitous about  saving  for  future  time.  He *cjiainjBfsed  in 
a  low,  audible  voice,  and  in  the  same  strain-'oT  pointed, 
pithy  remark  as  when  in  health.  He  observed  ^hat 
the  point  in  which  he  believed  ministers  generally 
failed  most,  and  in  which  he  had  certainly  failed  mb^L 
was  in  doing  duty  professionally,  and  not  froni  tm 
heart.  I  could  not  but  say  to  him  that  probably,!^ 
practice  had  been  marked  with  less  of  this  error  than 
that  of  most  others.  He  seemed  pained  with  the  thought 
that  any  should  be  more  deficient  than  he  had  been : 
'  O,  I  hope  it  is  not  so  !  I  hope  it  is  not  so  !'  Referring 
to  the  peace  which  the  Gospel  afforded  him  under  his 
trials,  he  said,  '  I  have  never  half  valued  as  I  ought  the 
doctrines  which  I  have  preached.  The  system  is  great 
and  glorious,  and  is  worthy  of  our  utmost  efforts  to 
promote  it.  The  interests  depending  will  justify  us  in 
our  strongest  measures.  In  every  respect  we  may  em- 
bark our  all  upon  it ;  it  will  sustain  us.' 

"  Speaking  of  the  temper  requisite  to  the  right  dis- 
charge of  ministerial  duty,  he  said,  '  I  never  was  fit  to 
say  a  word  to  a  sinner,  except  when  I  had  a  broken 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  473 

heart  myself;  when  I  Avas  subdued  and  melted  into 
penitence,  and  felt  as  though  I  had  just  received  par- 
don to  my  own  soul,  and  when  my  heart  was  full  of 
tenderness  and  pity — no  anger,  no  anger.'  He  express- 
ed himself  with  great  earnestness  respecting  the  grace 
of  God  as  exercised  in  saving  lost  men,  and  seemed 
particularly  affected  that  it  should  be  bestowed  on  one 
so  ill  deserving  as  himself.  '  O  how  sovereign  !  O  hov/ 
sovereign !  Grace  is  the  only  thing  that  can  make  us 
like  God.  I  might  be  dragged  through  heaven,  earth 
and  hell,  and  I  should  be  still  the  same  sinful,  polluted 
wretch,  unless  God  himself  should  reneAv  and  cleanse 
me.'  He  inquired  whether  I  could  preach  to  his  people 
on  the  morrow.  Being  told  that  I  was  not  w^ell,  he  re- 
plied, '  Then  do  not  preach ;  I  have  too  often  preached 
when  I  was  not  able.' 

"  On  taking  leave  I  expressed  a  hc-pe  that  he  might 
continue  to  enjoy  the  presence  of  God,  and  receive 
even  increasing  peace,  if  he  could  bear  it.  '  O  !'  said 
he,  'when  we  meet  in  heaven  we  shall  see  how  little 
we  know  about  it.'  His  whole  manner  and  appear- 
ance is  that  of  a  man  who  has  drunk  into  the  spirit  of 
heaven  far  more  deeply  than  those  around  him." 

October  7.  In  conversation  with  his  eldest  daugh- 
ter, on  being  asked  whether  self-examination  was  not 
a  very  difficult  duty  for  young  Christians  to  perform, 
he  replied,  "Yes;  and  for  old  ones  too,  because  it  is 
displeasing  to  the  pride  of  the  heart,  because  v/ander- 
ing  thoughts  are  then  most  apt  to  intrude,  and  because 
of  the  deceitfulness  of  the  heart.  When  a  Christian 
first  begins  to  look  into  his  heart,  he  sees  nothing  but 
confusion  ;  a  heap  of  sins  and  a  very  little  good  mix- 
ed up  together ;  and  he  knows  not  how  to  separate 

ivi.  p.  40"' 


474  MEMOIR  or 

them,  or  how  to  begin  self-examination.  But  let  him 
persevere  in  his  efforts,  and  soon  order  -vviil  arise  out 
of  confusion."  She  mentioned  to  him  a  passage  in 
the  life  of  Mr.  Alieine,  which  led  him  to  say,  "We 
never  confess  any  faults  that  we  consider  really  dis- 
graceful. We  complain  of  our  hardness  of  heart,  stu- 
pidity, &c.  but  we  never  confess  envy,  or  covetous- 
ness,  or  revenge,  or  any  thing  that  we  suppose  will 
lower  us  in  the  opinion  of  others ;  and  this  proves  that 
we  do  not  feel  ashamed  of  coldness  or  stupidity.  In 
short,  when  young  Christians  make  confessions,  un- 
less there  is  an  obvious  call  for  them,  it  usually  pro- 
ceeds from  one  of  these  three  motives ;  either  they 
wish  to  be  thought  very  humble,  and  to  possess  great 
knowledge  of  their  own  hearts  ;  or  they  think  it  is  a 
fault  which  the  other  has  perceived,  and  are  willing  to 
have  the  credit  of  having  discovered  and  striven  against 
it;  or  they  confess  some  fault,  from  which  they  are 
remarkably  free,  in  order  to  elicit  a  compliment. 

"  There  are  no  two  feelings  apparently  more  unlike 
than  mortified  pride  and  gratified  pride ;  yet  they  are, 
in  reality,  very  similar ;  and  we  are  indulging  one  of 
these  feelings  almost  constantly.  When  God  permits 
eveiy  thing  to  go  on  very  smoothly,  and  grants  us 
some  comforts,  our  pride  is  gratified ;  we  are  pleased 
with  ourselves,  with  God — and  call  the  feeling  grati- 
tude— and  with  those  around  us  ;  we  can  be  very  plea- 
sant and  obliging.  But  let  this  state  of  things  be  re- 
versed ;  let  our  corruptions  be  suffered  to  break  loose, 
and  trials  and  conflicts  to  assail  us — then  our  pride  is 
mortified  ;  we  begin  to  fret  and  repine,  and  say  that 
all  our  endeavors  are  useless.  You  cannot  yet  con- 
ceive how  very  small  a  portion  of  grace  we  have;  so 


EDWARD   PAYSON.  475 

that,  if  we  doubt  whether  matter  is  infinitely  divisible, 
we  can  hardly  doubt  that  grace  is  so." 

"With  regard  to  self-examination,  we  should  al 
ways  have,  as  it  were,  our  eye  turned  inward,  to  watch 
our  motives  and  feelings.  We  should  also,  at  night, 
review  the  conduct  of  the  day  ;  and  it  would  aid  you 
to  do  this,  if  you  made  an  abstract  of  the  duties  you 
owe  to  God  and  to  your  fellow-creatures  in  the  seve- 
ral relations  of  life,  and  also  of  your  besetting  sins. 
But  the  most  important  direction  I  can  give  you  is,  to 
look  to  Christ ;  for  while  we  are  contemplating  his 
perfections  Ave  insensibly  imbibe  his  Spirit." 

Notwithstanding  his  deep  seriousness,  there  was 
occasionally  a  pleasantry  in  iris  manner  of  expressing 
himself  which  would  excite  an  involuntary  smile : 
'•  What  contrary  and  unreasonable  creatures  we  are ! 
The  more  God  does  for  us  the  less  we  thank  him. 
Here  I  am,  stripped  of  more  than  half  my  blessings, 
as  we  ordinarily  estimate  them,  and  yet  I  never  felt 
half  so  grateful  to  God  before.  We  are  just  like  the 
harlequin  when  hired  to  mourn,  of  whom  his  em- 
ployer said,  '  The  better  I  pay  liim  the  more  he  won't 
grieve.'  " 

A  gray-headed  member  of  his  church,  who  is  usu- 
ally very  abrupt  in  his  address,  but  generally  very 
scriptural,  entered  his  chamber  one  day  with  the  salu- 
tation— "  Watchman,  what  of  the  night  ?" — "  I  should 
think  it  was  about  noon-day,"  was  the  answer. 

On  Sabbath-day,  Oct.  7,  it  was  the  privilege  of  the 
young  men  of  the  congregation  to  assemble,  at  his  re- 
quest, in  his  chamber,  v/hen  he  addressed  them  in  sub- 
stance as  follows  : 

"  My  young  friends,  you  will  all  one  day  be  obliged 


476  MEMOIR    OF 

to  embark  on  the  same  voyage  on  which  I  am  just 
embarking ;  and  as  it  has  been  my  especial  employ- 
ment, during  my  past  life,  to  recommend  to  you  a  Pi- 
lot to  guide  you  through  this  voyage,  I  wished  to  teil 
you  what  a  precious  Pilot  he  is,  that  you  may  be  in- 
duced to  choose  him  for  yours.  I  felt  desirous  that 
you  might  see  that  the  religion  I  have  preached  can 
support  me  in  death.  You  know  that  I  have  many 
ties  which  bind  me  to  earth — a  family  to  whom  I  am 
strongly  attached,  and  a  people  whom  I  love  almost 
as  well — but  the  other  world  acts  like  a  much  stronger 
magnet,  and  draws  my  heart  away  from  this.  Death 
comes  every  night  and  stands  by  my  bedside  in  the 
form  of  terrible  convulsions,  every  one  of  which  threat- 
ens to  separate  the  soul  from  the  body.  These  conti- 
nue to  grow  worse  and  worse,  until  every  bone  is  al- 
most dislocated  with  pain,  leaving  me  with  the  cer- 
tainty that  I  shall  have  it  all  to  endure  again  the  next 
night.  Yet,  while  my  body  is  thus  tortured,  the  soul 
is  perfectly,  perfectly  happy  and  peaceful — more  hap- 
py than  I  can  possibly  express  to  you.  1  lie  here  and 
feel  these  convulsions  extending  higher  and  higher  ; 
but  my  soul  is  filled  with  joy  unspeakable.  I  seem  to 
swim  in  a  flood  of  glory  which  God  pours  down  upon 
me.  And  I  know,  I  know  that  my  happiness  is  but  be- 
gun ;  I  cannot  doubt  that  it  will  last  for  ever.  And 
now,  is  this  all  a  delusion  ?  Is  it  a  delusion  which 
can  fill  the  soul  to  overflowing  with  joy  in  such  cir- 
cumstances ?  If  so,  it  is  surely  a  delusion  better  than 
any  reality.  But  no,  it  is  not  a  delusion;  I  feel  that 
it  is  not.  I  do  not  merely  know  that  I  shall  enjoy  all 
this — /  enjoy  it  now. 

"  My  young  friends — were  I  master  of  the  whole 


EDWARD   PAYSON.  477 

world,  what  could  it  do  for  me  like  this  ?  Were  all  its 
wealth  at  my  feet,  and  all  its  inhabitants  striving  to 
make  me  happy,  what  could  they  do  for  me  ?  Nothing ! 
nothing !  Now,  all  this  happiness  I  trace  back  to  the 
religion  which  I  have  preached,  and  to  the  time  when 
that  great  change  took  place  in  my  heart,  which  I  have 
often  told  you  is  necessary  to  salvation  ;  and  I  now 
tell  you  again,  that  without  this  change  you  cannot, 
no,  you  cannot  see  the  kingdom  of  God. 

"And now,  standing  as  I  do  on  the  ridge  which  se- 
parates the  two  Avorlds,  feeling  what  intense  happiness 
or  misery  the  soul  is  capable  of  sustaining ;  judging 
of  your  capacities  by  my  own,  and  believing  that  those 
capacities  will  be  filled  to  the  very  brim  with  joy  or 
wretchedness  for  ever ;  can  it  be  wondered  at  that  my 
heart  yearns  over  you,  my  children,  that  you  may 
choose  life  and  not  death  ?  Is  it  to  be  wondered  at 
that  I  long  to  present  every  one  of  you  with  a  cup  of 
happiness  and  see  you  drink  it ;  that  I  long  to  have 
you  make  the  same  choice  which  I  made,  and  from 
which  springs  all  my  happiness? 

"  A  young  man  just  about  to  leave  this  world  ex- 
claimed, '  The  battle's  fought !  the  battle's  fought !  the 
battle's  fought !  but  the  victory  is  lost  for  ever !'  But 
I  can  say.  The  battle's  fought  and  the  victory  is  won! 
the  victory  is  won,  for  ever !  I  am  going  to  bathe  in 
an  ocean  of  purity,  and  benevolence,  and  happiness, 
to  all  eternity.  And  now,  my  children,  let  me  bless 
you ;  not  with  the  blessing  of  a  poor,  feeble,  dying 
man,  but  Avith  the  blessing  of  the  infinite  God.  The 
grace  of  God,  and  the  love  of  Christ,  and  the  commu- 
nion of  the  Holy  Ghost,  be  with  all,  and  each  one  of 
you,  for  ever  and  ever :  Amen." 


478  MEMOIR   OF 

Having  delivered  his  dying  messages  to  all  classes 
among  his  own  flock,  he  commissioned  a  ministering 
brother  to  bear  one  to  the  Association  of  Ministers, 
who  were  to  meet  in  a  few  days.  The  purport  of  it 
was — "  a  hearty  assurance  of  the  ardent  love  with 
which  he  remembered  them  even  in  death  ;  an  exhor- 
tation to  love  one  another  with  a  pure  heart  fervently  ; 
to  love  their  work,  to  be  diligent  in  it,  to  expect  suc- 
cess, to  bear  up  under  their  discouragements,  be  faith- 
ful unto  death,  and  look  for  their  reward  in  heaven," 
I  rejoice,  said  the  brother,  rejoice  more  than  I  can  ex- 
press, to  be  the  bearer  of  such  a  message ;  for  you, 
perhaps,  are  aware  that  many  of  your  brethren  have 
thought  you  distant  and  reserved,  and  as  having  che- 
rished too  little  of  a  fellow-feeling  towards  them.  "  I 
know  it,"  said  he  ;  "  but  my  apparent  reserve  was  not 
owing  to  any  want  of  affection  for  them,  but  to  a  very 
different  cause :  I  have  been  all  my  days  like  a  soldier 
in  the  fore-front  of  the  hottest  battle,  so  intent  in  fight- 
ing for  my  own  life,  that  /  could  not  see  who  was  fall- 
ing around  we." 

While  speaking  of  the  rapturous  views  he  had  of 
the  heavenly  world,  he  was  asked  if  it  did  not  seem 
almost  like  the  clear  light  of  vision,  rather  than  that 
of  faith.  "  Oh!"  he  replied,  "I  don't  knoAv — it  is  too 
much  for  the  poor  eyes  of  my  soul  to  bear ! — they  are 
almost  blinded  Avith  the  excessive  brightness.  All  I 
want  is  to  be  a  mirror,  to  reflect  some  of  those  rays  to 
those  around  me." 

"  My  soul,  instead  of  growing  weaker  and  more 
languishing,  as  my  body  does,  seems  to  be  endued 
with  an  angel's  energies,  and  to  be  ready  to  break  from 
the  body  and  join  those  around  the  throne." 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  479 

A  friend,  with  whom  he  had  been  conversing  on 
his  extreme  bodily  sufferings  and  his  high  spiritual 
joys,  remarked — "  I  presume  it  is  no  longer  incredible 
to  you,  if  ever  it  was,  that  martyrs  should  rejoice  and 
praise  God  in  the  flames  and  on  the  rack." — "  No," 
said  he,  "  I  can  easily  believe  it.  I  have  suffered 
twenty  times — yes,  to  speak  within  bounds — twenty 
times  as  much  as  I  could  in  being  burnt  at  the  stake, 
while  my  joy  in  God  so  abounded  as  to  render  my 
sufferings  not  only  tolerable  but  welcome.  The  suf- 
ferings of  this  'present  time  are  not  worthy  to  be  com- 
pared with  the  glory  that  shall  he  revealed. 

At  another  time — "  God  is  literally  now  my  all  in 
all.  While  he  is  present  with  me  no  event  can  in  the 
least  diminish  my  happiness  ;  and  were  the  whole 
world  at  my  feet  trying  to  minister  to  my  comfort, 
they  could  not  add  one  drop  to  the  cup. 

"  It  seems  as  if  the  promise,  '  God  shall  wipe  away 
all  tears  from  their  eyes,'  was  already  fulfilled  to  me, 
as  it  respects  tears  of  sorrow.  I  have  no  tears  to  shed 
now  but  those  of  love,  and  joy,  and  thankfulness." 

October  16.  To  his  daughter — "  You  will  avoid 
much  pain  and  anxiety,  if  you  will  learn  to  trust  all 
your  concerns  in  God's  hand.  '  Cast  all  your  care  upon 
him,  for  he  careth  for  you.'  But  if  you  merely  go  and 
say  that  you  cast  your  care  upon  him,  you  will  come 
away  with  the  load  on  your  shoulders.  If  I  had  the  en- 
tire disposal  of  your  situation,  and  could  decide  how 
many  scholars  you  should  have,  and  what  success  you 
should  meet  with,  you  would  feel  no  anxiety,  but  would 
rely  on  my  love  and  wisdom;  and  if  you  should  discover 
any  solicitude,  it  would  show  that  you  distrusted  one 
ax  the  other  of  these.  Now  all  your  concerns  are  m  the 


480  MEMOIR    OP 

hands  of  a  merciful  and  wise  Father ;  therefore  it  is  an 
insult  to  him  to  be  careful  and  anxious  concerning  them. 
Trust  him  for  all — abilities,  success,  and  every  thing 
else — and  you  will  never  have  reason  to  repent  it," 

At  one  time  he  was  heard  to  break  forth  in  the  fol- 
lowing soliloquy  : 

"  What  an  assemblage  of  motives  to  holiness  does 
the  Gospel  present !  I  am  a  Christian — Avhat  then  ? 
Why,  I  am  a  redeemed  sinner — a  pardoned  rebel — all 
through  grace,  and  by  the  most  wonderful  means  which 
infinite  wisdom  could  devise.  I  am  a  Christian — Avhat 
then  7  Why,  I  am  a  temple  of  God,  and  surely  I  ought 
to  be  pure  and  holy.  I  am  a  Christian — what  then  7  I 
am  a  child  of  God,  and  ought  to  be  filled  with  filial 
love,  reverence,  joy,  and  gratitude.  I  am  a  Christian — 
what  then  ?  Why,  I  am  a  disciple  of  Christ,  and  must 
imitate  him  who  was  meek  and  lowly  in  heart,  and 
pleased  not  himself.  I  am  a  Christian — what  then? 
Why,  I  am  an  heir  of  heaven,  and  hastening  on  to  the 
abodes  of  the  blessed,  to  join  the  full  choir  of  glorified 
ones,  in  singing  the  song  of  Moses  and  the  Lamb ;  and 
surely  I  ought  to  learn  that  song  on  earth." 

To  Mrs.  Payson,  who,  while  ministering  to  him,  had 
observed,  "  Your  head  feels  hot,  and  seems  to  be  dis- 
tended," he  replied — "  It  seems  as  if  the  soul  disdain- 
ed such  a  narrow  prison,  and  was  determined  to  Ireak 
through  with  an  angel's  energy,  and,  I  trust,  with  no 
small  portion  of  an  angel's  feeling,  until  it  mounts  on 
high." 

Again — "  It  seems  as  if  my  soul  had  found  a  pair 
of  new  wings,  and  was  so  eager  to  try  them,  that  in 
her  fluttering  she  would  rend  the  fine  net-work  of  the 
body  to  pieces." 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  481 

At  another  time — "  My  dear,  I  should  think  it  might 
encourage  and  strengthen  you,  under  whatever  trials 
you  may  be  called  to  endure,  to  remember  me.  O  !  you 
must  believe  that  it  will  be  great  peace  at  last." 

At  another  time  he  said  to  her — "  After  I  am  gone, 
you  will  find  many  little  streams  of  beneficence  pour- 
ing in  upon  you,  and  you  will  perhaps  say,  '  I  wish 
my  dear  husband  were  here  to  know  this.'  My  dear, 
you  may  think  that  I  do  knoAv  it  by  anticipation,  and 
praise  God  for  it  now." 

"  Hitherto  I  have  viewed  God  as  a  fixed  Star,  bright 
indeed,  but  often  intercepted  by  clouds ;  but  now  he  is 
coming  nearer  and  nearer,  and  spreads  into  a  Sun  so 
vast  and  glorious,  that  the  sight  is  too  dazzling  for 
flesh  and  blood  to  sustain."  This  was  not  a  blind  ado- 
ration of  an  imaginary  deity ;  for,  added  he,  "  I  see 
clearly  that  all  these  same  glorious  and  dazzling  pei-- 
fections,  which  now  only  serve  to  kindle  my  affections 
into  a  flame,  and  to  melt  down  my  soul  into  the  same 
blessed  image,  would  burn  and  scorch  me  like  a  con- 
suming fire,  if  I  were  an  impenitent  sinner." 

He  said  he  felt  no  solicitude  respecting  his  family ; 
he  could  trust  them  all  in  the  hands  of  Christ.  To  feel 
any  undue  solicitude  on  their  account,  or  to  be  unwill- 
ing to  leave  them  with  God,  would  be  like  "  a  child 
who  was  reluctant  to  go  to  school,  lest  his  father 
should  burn  up  his  toys  and  play-things  while  he  was 
absent." 

Conversing  with  a  friend  on  his  preparation  for  his 
departure,  he  compared  himself  to  "  a  person  who  had 
been  visiting  his  friends,  and  was  about  to  return 
home.    His  trunk  was  packed,  and  every  thing  pre- 

M.  P.  41 


482  MEMOIR  or 

pared,  and  he  was  looking  out  of  the  window,  waiting 
for  tlie  stage  to  take  him  in." 

When  speaking  of  the  sufferings  he  endured,  parti- 
cularly the  sensation  of  burning  in  his  side  and  left 
leg,  he  said  that  if  he  expected  to  live  long  enough  to 
make  it  worth  while,  he  would  have  his  leg  taken  off. 
On  Mrs.  Payson's  uttering  some  expression  of  sur- 
prise, he  replied — "  I  have  not  a  very  slight  idea  of  the 
pain  of  amputation ;  yet  I  have  no  doubt  that  I  suffer 
more  every  fifteen  minutes  than  I  should  in  having  my 
leg  taken  off." 

His  youngest  child,  about  a  year  old,  hai  been  un- 
der the  care  of  a  friend,  and  was  to  be  removed  a  few 
miles  out  of  town ;  but  he  expressed  so  strong  a  wish 
to  see  Charles  fiirst,  that  he  was  sent  for.  The  look  of 
love,  and  tenderness,  and  compassion  with  which  he 
regarded  the  child,  made  an  indelible  impression  on 
all  present. 

At  his  request  some  of  the  choir  belonging  to  the  con- 
gregation came  a  few  days  before  his  death,  for  the 
purpose  of  singing,  for  his  gratification,  some  of  the 
songs  of  Zion.  He  selected  the  one  commencing, 
"  Rise,  my  soul,  and  stretch  thy  wings ;"  part  of  the 
hymn,  "  I'll  praise  my  Maker  with  my  breath ;"  and 
the  "  Dying  Christian  to  his  Soul." 

Sabbath  day,  October  21,  1827,  his  last  agony  com- 
menced. This  holy  man,  who  had  habitually  said  of 
his  racking  pains,  "  These  are  God's  arrows,  but  they 
are  all  sharpened  with  love" — and  who  in  the  extre- 
mity of  suffering  had  been  accustomed  to  repeat,  as  a 
favorite  expression,  "  I  will  bless  the  Lord  at  all 
times'''' — had  yet  the  "  dying  strife"  to  encounter.  It 
commenced  with  the  same  diflSiculty  of  respiration, 


EDWARD    PAYSON.  483 

though  in  an  aggravated  degree,  which  had  caused 
him  great  distress  at  intervals  during  his  sickness. 
His  daughter,  who  had  gone  to  the  Sabbath  school 
without  any  apprehensions  of  so  sudden  a  change,  was 
called  home.  Though  laboring  for  breath,  and  with  a 
rattling  in  the  throat  similar  to  that  which  immediate- 
ly precedes  dissolution,  he  smiled  upon  hex,  kissed  her 
alfectionately,  and  said — "  God  bless  you,  my  daugh- 
ter !"  Several  of  the  church  were  soon  collected  at  his 
bedside ;  he  smiled  on  them  all,  but  said  little,  as  his 
power  of  utterance  had  nearly  failed.  Once  he  ex- 
claimed, "  Peace  !  peace  !  Victory  !  victory  !"  He 
looked  on  his  wife  and  children,  and  said,  almost  in 
the  words  of  dying  Joseph  to  his  brethren — words 
which  he  had  before  spoken  of  as  having  a  peculiar 
sweetness,  and  which  he  now  wished  to  recall  to  her 
mind — ''  I  am  going,  but  God  will  surely  be  with  you." 
His  friends  watched  him,  expecting  every  moment  to 
see  him  expire,  till  near  noon,  v/hen  his  distress  par- 
tially left  him;  and  he  said  to  the  physician,  who  was 
feeling  his  pulse,  that  he  found  he  was  not  to  be  re- 
leased yet;  and  though  he  had  suffered  the  pangs  of 
death,  and  got  almost  within  the  gates  of  Paradise — 
yet,  if  it  was  God's  will  that  he  should  come  back  and 
suffer  still  more,  he  was  resigned.  He  passed  through 
a  similar  scene  m  the  afternoon,  and,  to  the  surprise 
of  every  one,  was  again  relieved.  The  night  follow- 
ing he  suffered  less  than  he  had  the  two  preceding. 
Friday  night  had  been  one  of  inexpressible  suffering. 
That  and  the  last  night  of  his  pilgrimage  were  the 
only  nights  in  which  he  had  watchers.  The  friend 
who  attended  him  through  his  last  night,  read  to  hira, 
at  his  request,  the  twelfth  chapter  of  the  second  Epis- 


484  MEMOIR    OF 

tie  to  the  Corinthians ;  parts  of  which  must  have  been 
peculiarly  applicable  to  his  case. 

On  Monday  morning  his  dying  agonies  returned  in 
all  their  extremity.  For  three  hours  every  breath  was 
a  groan.  On  being  asked  if  his  sufferings  were  greater 
than  on  the  preceding  Friday  night,  he  ansAvered,  "  In- 
comparably greater."  He  said  that  the  greatest  tem- 
poral blessing  of  which  he  could  conceive  would  be 
one  breath  of  air.  Mrs.  Payson  fearing,  from  the  ex- 
pression of  suffering  in  his  countenance,  that  he  Avas 
in  mental  as  well  as  bodily  anguish,  questioned  him 
on  the  subject.  With  extreme  difficulty  he  was  ena- 
bled to  articulate  the  words,  "  Faith  and  patience  hold 
out."  About  mid-day  the  pain  of  respiration  abated, 
and  a  partial  stupor  succeeded.  Still,  however,  he  con 
tinned  intelligent,  and  evidently  able  to  recognise  all 
who  were  present.  His  eyes  spoke  after  his  tongue  be- 
came motionless.  He  looked  on  Mrs.  Payson,  and  then 
his  eye,  glancing  over  the  others  who  surrounded  his 
bed,  rested  on  Edward,  his  eldest  son,  with  an  expres- 
sion which  said — and  which  was  interpreted  by  all 
present  to  say.  as  plainly  as  if  he  had  uttered  the  words 
of  the  beloved  disciple — "  Behold  thy  mother  !"  There 
was  no  visible  indication  of  the  return  of  his  suffer- 
ings. He  gradually  sunk  away,  till  about  the  going 
down  of  the  sun,  when  his  happy  spirit  was  set  at 
liberty. 

His  "  ruling  passion  was  strong  in  death."  His 
love  for  preaching  was  as  invincible  as  that  of  the 
miser  for  gold,  who  dies  grasping  his  treasure.  Dr. 
Payson  directed  a  label  to  be  attached  to  his  breast, 
on  which  should  be  written — "  Remember  the  words 
which  I  spake  unto  you  while  I  was  yet  present  with 


EDWARD   PAYSON.  480 

you  ;  that  they  might  be  read  by  all  who  came  to  look 
at  his  corpse,  and  by  which  he,  being  dead,  still  spake. 
The  same  Avords.  at  the  request  of  his  people,  were 
engraven  on  the  plare  of  the  coffin,  and  read  by  thou- 
sands on  the  day  of  interment. 

His  funeral  sermon  was  preached  by  the  Rev. 
Charles  Jenkins,  (who  was  soon  to  follow  him,)  from 
2  Tim.  4  :  6 — 8.  "  /  am  now  ready  to  he  offered^  and 
the  time  of  my  departure  is  at  hand.  I  have  fought 
a  goodfght,  I  have  finished  my  course^  I  have  kept 
the  faith  :  henceforth  there  is  laid  up  for  me  a  crown 
of  righteousness,  which  the  Lord,  therighteous  Jitdge, 
shall  give  me  at  that  day  ;  and  not  to  one  only,  but 
unto  all  them  also  that  love  his  appearing?'' 


"BEHOLD  THY  MOTHER!" 

The  scene  at  the  death-bed  of  Dr.  Payson,  de- 
scribed on  the  preceding  page,  has  been  happily  ex- 
panded in  the  following  beautiful  lines  from  the  pen 
of  Mrs.  Sigourney. 

What  said  the  eye? — The  marble  lip  spake  not, 
Save  in  that  quivering  sob  with  which  stern  Death 
Doth  crush  life's  harp-strings. — Loi  again  it  pours 
A  tide  of  more  t'oan  utter'd  eloquence — 
"Son! — look  upon  thy  mother!" — and  retires 
Beneath  the  curtain  of  the  drooping  lids, 
To  hide  itself  for  ever.    Tis  the  last, 
Last  glance! — and  mark  how  tenderly  it  fell, 
M.  P.  41* 


486  MEMOIR    OF    EDWARD    PAYSON. 

Upon  that  lov'd  companion,  and  the  groups 
That  wept  around. — Full  well  the  dying  knew 
The  value  of  those  holy  charities 
Which  purge  the  dross  of  selfishness  away; 
And  deep  he  felt  that  woman's  trusting  heart, 
Rent  from  the  cherish'd  prop,  which,  next  to  Christ» 
Had  been  her  stay  in  all  adversities, 
Would  take  the  balm-cup  best  from  that  dear  hand 
Which  woke  the  sources  of  maternal  love- 
That  smile,  whose  winning  paid  for  sleepless  nightf 
Of  cradle-care— that  voice,  whose  murraur'd  tones 
Her  own  had  moulded  to  the  words  of  prayer  ! 
How  soothing  to  a  widow'd  mother's  breast 
Her  first-born's  sympathy ! 

Be  strong,  young  man ! 
Lift  the  protector's  arm — the  healer's  prayer! 
Be  tender  in  thy  every  word  and  deed. 
A  Spirit  watcheth  thee  !— Yes,  he  who  pass'd 
From  shaded  earth  up  to  the  full-orb'd  day, 
Will  be  thy  witness  in  the  court  of  heaven 
How  thou  dost  bear  his  mantle. 

So  farewell, 
Leader  in  Israel !— Thou  whose  radiant  path 
Was  like  the  angel's  standing  in  the  sun,* 
Undazzled  and  unswerving— it  was  meet 
That  thou  shouldst  rise  to  light  without  a  dond. 

*  Revelation,  19:17. 


THE   END. 


